All the Time in the World (Will Never Be Enough)
by crematosis
Summary: The first time Steve is sent into the timestream to save Tony, the mission is a complete disaster. Tony isn't an easy person to protect. But Steve is up for the challenge. Because sometimes, even time-traveling, badass supersoldiers need saving.


A/N: I have been working on this since Valentine's Day. It's the longest thing I've ever written. Longest one-shot, anyway. And I'd like to thank Cierra, my best friend in the world for putting up with all my angsting as I wrote this. Be gentle, please? It was really, really hard to write.

Disclaimer: Just because they call me Stark at work doesn't mean I actually own Avengers stuff.

The first time Steve met Tony Stark was in 1998, in a convenience store just outside of Boston.

Steve had only come in for a bottle of water and a newspaper for Director Fury, who insisted he bring one back from every mission. But then he saw the store clerk.

Steve had always had a thing for brunettes. Especially brunettes with a little stubble. If only he had brought his pencils with him. Then he could have captured his likeness to paper. The artfully mussed black hair, tan skin, dark, expressive eyes. Steve couldn't care less that he was wearing a hideous blue polo shirt and cherry-red apron. He could stare at the guy all day, no matter what he was wearing.

Oh, wait. He was supposed to be buying things. And here he was was standing in the doorway, staring. Subtle, Steve. Real subtle.

Luckily, the teen was busy scribbling something in his notebook so Steve eyed him surreptitiously as he meandered up and down the aisles.

Aisle two: crackers, bread, hot convenience store clerk.

Ugh, what was he doing? Steve scrubbed at his face with both hands. The clerk looked to be no more than nineteen, still a teenager. Steve was twenty-seven, a little too old to be finding a teenager attractive, but it didn't hurt to look, right?

Feeling the dark eyes on him, Steve put his purchases down on the counter."Can I get checked out now?" He winced. Oh great. He just had to say it like _that._

"Sure thing," the teen said with a grin that told Steve that unfortunately, he was all too aware of the double entendre. "I'd be happy to check you out." His eyes flicked up and down Steve's body.

_'You're an adult,'_ Steve reminded himself. _'You are not getting sucked into a silly game with a horny teenager.'_

He cleared his throat and tried to look stern, ignoring how red his face felt. "I'm sure your boss appreciates you harassing the customers."

"Nah, he doesn't give a damn. My parents are paying him to let me work here, you know. Dad wants me to see how the other side lives."

Steve raised an eyebrow. The other side?

A flashed grin. "I'm fitting in pretty well, right? I bet you didn't even recognize me at first."

"Nope," Steve said. "And you are?"

The nametag said Tony. Steve ran through the admittedly short list of famous Tonys he knew: Tony Hawk (he was big in the 90s, right?),Tony Danza, Tony Spilotro, Tony Blair. None of them fit this Tony. He probably belonged to some new band Steve hadn't heard of.

"Stark. Tony Stark." Tony looked at him expectantly. As if the name should be instantly recognizable.

Steve considered."Might be familiar."

"Jesus. 'Might be familiar'? Are you living under a rock? I've been all over the papers this year."

Steve shrugged. "I don't really read the papers." Something Fury had been badgering him about. Steve knew next to nothing about the nineties.

Tony snatched up the paper from the counter. "Well, read this one. I'm on the front page again."

Steve scanned the headline: _Heir to Stark Industries Caught with Porn Star_. Stark Industries...oh!

"You must be Howard Stark's son."

Tony grinned. "Ha, I knew you couldn't be that oblivious. Everyone knows what Dad did in the war."

And Steve knew better than most. He had been there. Seen Howard Stark when he was not much older than Tony was now.

Steve was filled with a sudden burst of nostalgia. He wished he could stop by and see Howard, find out how he was doing. But when he joined SHIELD, he had agreed to leave his old life behind. No, he had to be content with knowing that Howard's company was successful enough that his son was a minor celebrity.

"So, now you know who I am." Tony lounged against the counter. "And you know I have the money to land a hunk like you."

"I'm not a prostitute," Steve said indignantly.

"Never said you were. And I don't do prostitutes. Against my moral code."

_And porn stars are such a huge step up from prostitutes_, Steve wanted to say. Instead, he rolled his eyes. "So, you flirt with anybody and everybody. Unless they're a prostitute."

Tony flashed another grin. "Only with the cute ones."

"And I bet you try to sleep with all of them, too."

"Nah, I haven't slept with that many people. Let's see." Tony rolled his eyes upward, his brow furrowed with concentration as he ticked off the numbers on his fingers. "One, two, three, four."

Only four? That wasn't nearly as high as Steve had expected. Huh. Maybe the kid had morals after all.

Tony frowned. "Does it count as two people if I slept with them before and after they got a sex change?"

"Nope. Same person, just different parts."

"What if they changed their name?"

Steve sighed. "You don't count them as two different people when they change their clothes, do you?"

"Right then. So, sixteen, altogether."

Okay, yeah. That was closer to the number Steve had been expecting.

"That's a nice watch," Tony said suddenly. "Know where I can get one?"

"I doubt you'll find another like it," Steve said. Because it hadn't been invented yet. But he wasn't about to tell that to Tony

Tony shrugged. "Maybe it won't be green, but I'm sure some other company make a watch that glows. I'll make do."

Watch. Glow.

Uh-oh.

Steve risked a glance at his wrist. The display was bright green. He groaned. "Anybody here besides you?"

"Why? Trying to rat me out to the boss?"

"I'm serious." Steve rolled up his sleeves and eyed the front door.

"Nope. Just me."

Great. This self-important brat was his target. Well, he was a Stark. Probably going to take over the company one day.

"Hey, dude-"

"Steve Rogers." Steve's mouth twisted with amusement. "Better remember the name. Because you're going to be screaming it later."

It was a pity Steve didn't have more time to appreciate Tony's open-mouthed shock. But he had barely finished speaking when the front door exploded inward. Steve hurtled the counter, tackling Tony to the floor.

Tony yelped. "Holy fuck, Steve. That was-" He fell silent as the screech of metal shelving tipping over filled the air. "Oh my god. I think you just saved my life."

"Yeah," Steve said. "That was kind of the point." He straightened up slowly. There were chips of glass and splintered wood all across the counter. If Tony had still been standing there...well, it was best not to think about it.

Tony sat up and rubbed his shoulder. "Damn, you play football or something? That was a hell of a hit."

"Army."

Steve checked his watch. The screen was still glowing, which meant Tony was still in trouble. "Stay there for a sec. I'm going to check things out."

"Aye, aye, Captain" Tony said with a sarcastic salute.

Steve stepped around the counter, picking his way through the remains of the convenience store. The place was an absolute disaster. Most of the shelves had fallen over, scattering snack foods and magazines across the floor. And of course, there was the giant, smoldering hole where the door used to be.

Steve twisted his watch one rotation and lifted the watch face, pulling out the thin piece of metal he had stashed there. With a few shakes, it expanded into its normal size. He traced a hand over the smooth curve fondly. His vibranium shield. He never went anywhere without it.

"How the hell did you do that?"

Steve whirled around. The brunette was right behind him, eyes wide with awe. "Tony, I told you to stay put."

Tony grinned sheepishly. "I was never good at doing what I was told."

"Get back behind the counter. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Oh, come on. I'm sure everything's settled now." Tony glanced upward. "Unless the ceiling caves in. Or a sinkhole opens in the ground. Or maybe you're expecting some giant deathlizards to jump out at us."

Steve gritted his teeth."This isn't a game, kid. This is dangerous." The debris had settled from the explosion, sure. But Steve wasn't worried about that. He was worried about the ones behind the blast.

A low rumble came from outside. Perfect. Sounded like a whole damn army.

Tony's hand tightened around Steve's shoulder. "What the hell was that?"

"Chitauri," Steve said grimly. "But giant deathlizards works, too." Steve adjusted his watch one half rotation and hoisted the shield back. "Stay behind me."

The first of the chitauri began storming into the shop. Steve extended his arm and fired a laser blast from his watch. The chitauri fired back and Steve raised his shield to block the attacks.

They were coming in way too fast. Steve fought hard to keep them at bay, stop them before they got into the shop, but it was a losing battle. The chitauri surged through the doorway, dropped in through the windows, and clawed their way through the rubble. Somewhere in all the chaos, Steve lost sight of Tony. He was quickly becoming surrounded and the chitauri excelled at close combat. They had curved metal claws and a snout full of razor-sharp teeth to sink into any inch of unprotected skin. Not to mention the force behind each of their punches and kicks.

Steve's arm was starting to get tired. But he had to keep holding his shield up, keep deflecting the-oh, that looked like a pretty powerful-

Steve was thrown across the shop. He hit the far wall and slid down into a heap behind the counter. Right on top of Tony.

Found him.

"Stay down," Steve said. "I mean it, this time. It's too dangerous."

Tony nodded, staring at him with wide, unfocused eyes. Steve could see a little blood matted in Tony's hair. Probably just a concussion. Hopefully.

Steve jumped up onto the counter and hurled his shield, mowing down several chitauri at once. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? Having the high ground made everything much, much easier.

Fifteen minutes later, the battle was over. Steve hopped down off the counter to have a look at Tony's head. Tony hissed in pain when Steve parted his hair. Luckily it was just a shallow cut. Probably from hitting the counter.

"Sorry about that," Steve said. He held out a hand to tug Tony to his feet.

"My hero," Tony said breathlessly, hands curling around Steve's shoulders. "Do you take kisses as payment?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Fine. One kiss and that's it."

Tony leaned into him eagerly, kissing as if this was the last time he would kiss anybody ever. If Tony got his way, it looked like they'd be making out for the rest of the day. But Steve couldn't let that happen. Steve pushed him back before Tony got too invested in exploring the inside of his mouth. "That's enough. Just one kiss, I said."

Tony licked his lips, still looking dazed. He seemed about to protest, but then his brow furrowed. Steve could actually see his mind change directions. "You," Tony said, taking a step back. "You have a, uh, a thing in your neck. Toenail/fingernail/claw type thing?"

Steve looked down. "I'll be damned."

He had a chitauri claw wedged pretty deeply into his skin, right above his collarbone. How had he not felt that? Steve tugged, wincing, as he carefully worked it out. Okay, now it hurt. Now that it was coming out. With a groan, Steve yanked out the last two inches. There. That was better. What a relief.

Tony stared at him. "I saw you all scratched up and bleeding. Nobody heals that fast. Oh shit. I can't even see where that claw went in. Where did it go?" His fingers scrabbled at Steve's neck.

Steve swatted his hand away. "You must be seeing things," he said. "You hit your head pretty hard in that explosion."

"What? No, I didn't."

Steve nodded solemnly. "I think the gas line ruptured."

"A gas line? Steve, what the hell. There were alien lizards. Look, I can still see them all over the floor. Well, their guts anyway."

"I don't see a thing," Steve said innocently. "You must've hit your head pretty hard. You're just imagining you're seeing me teleport out of here." He tapped the button on the side of the watch and disappeared from 1998.

Back at SHIELD headquarters, Steve changed out of his ruined clothes and took a long, hot shower. He felt restless and irritated. It had been years since one of his missions had gone that badly. It wasn't his fault and it wasn't Tony's fault (the kid hadn't asked to be attacked by a swarm of chitauri), but Steve felt like he needed someone to blame and Tony had gotten under his skin in ways no one else had. He wanted to strangle him, to pin him against a wall and punch him, to shake some sense into him.

He had already knocked a few punching bags down in the gym and gone for a run around the track. But it wasn't enough.

After an hour, he decided to take a break and have lunch. He grabbed a protein bar from the vending machine in the cafeteria and headed back to the gym to repeat the pointless cycle. But then he saw Clint Barton sitting at one of the tables, cleaning his arrows.

Perfect. Clint was always happy to have company while he was working. And he did love listening to people complain, even if he didn't always listen to what they were saying.

Steve slid into the seat across from him."Have you ever wanted to kill one of your targets yourself?" he asked.

"Hell yes," Clint said without even looking up. "Russell Crowe. Dude was an asshole. Bumped into me in some hotel lobby and started bitching me out for being in his way. Yeah, yeah, he's a great actor and if he died it'd change movie history, but I wish I could have let the chitauri rough him up a little."

"I had this teenaged brat." Steve leaned across the table and began outlining what a bother Tony had been.

Clint nodded sagely and held up one of his arrows for inspection."By the way," he said, "Fury wants to see you in his office. Something about the destruction of valuable architecture."

The second time he saw Tony was twenty years in the future, on a busy street in Malibu. For Steve, it was only two years later.

He had been on sixteen missions since then, protecting everyone from Steve Jobs to Herbert Hoover. Most of the missions had been relatively easy. Spot the chitauri and take it out before his target even saw him. That was the way Fury liked it.

Steve wandered the streets, glancing down at his watch from time to time. The display was still clear, still showing June 5th, 2018. So, he had time. Time to look at all the vintage clothing displayed in the shop windows and think wistfully of the first time shirt dresses had been popular.

It would be hard to figure out who was his target with so many people walking down the street. But that didn't really matter. The chitauri weren't exactly subtle.

Oh, a limo. This looked promising. The man getting out of the limo had to be a CEO of some type. Steve wasn't exactly a fashion expert, but that suit looked expensive. And so did the watch. And the cufflinks. (Were those actually diamonds? They sure looked like it.) He walked like a man who knew exactly how good he looked, probably well aware of the fact that people were bound to be watching. Steve could see it in the way he slipped on his blue-tinted sunglasses (also expensive) and ran a hand through his hair, tousling the perfect part.

Suddenly the man looked really familiar. Was that...Tony? Oh wow, it was.

Tony had to be about forty now. His hairline was a little higher and the faint stubble was now a full goatee. If Steve looked hard enough, he'd probably see laugh lines, a few gray hairs, skin spots. But still, Tony looked pretty damn attractive. Maybe even more attractive than he had been at nineteen.

Yikes. He didn't know he had a thing for middle-aged men.

He couldn't move, could only stare helplessly as Tony walked towards him, fiddling with his phone. Steve could only hope Tony wouldn't look up, that he would pass by completely oblivious to his presence, that he wouldn't recognize him.

But then Tony looked up from his phone and came to a halt as their eyes met. Damnit.

"Steve? Is that you?"

There were probably a hundred ways Steve could have handled the situation. Abort the mission and return to headquarters, pretend that Tony was crazy and his name wasn't Steve at all and he had never met Tony before in his life, knock Tony out and continue the mission (a last resort, obviously). But running suddenly seemed like the simplest idea.

"Happy, grab him," Tony shouted.

Arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Steve rolled, shaking off the middle-aged man with a security badge. (Chief of security, really? Tony could do better. So much better).

"Damnit, Happy. Never mind. Brutus, your turn."

Steve was yanked back by a much stronger pair of arms. He struggled against the grip, but found he could do nothing. (Now this guy was a bodyguard. A damn good one.) It had been a long time since Steve had lost a fight. His serum-enhanced body was stronger than most people, but not this guy. Steve found himself lying helplessly on the ground with the Brutus' knee in the middle of his back.

Tony crouched over him, his eyes sparkling with wicked amusement. "Brutus is pretty awesome, if I do say so myself. After all, I built him."

Steve squirmed. "Tony, you have to let me go. I have important work to do. Things you can't even begin to understand."

"Cool. You can explain it to me in the car."

Steve groaned as Brutus hauled him to his feet and marched him over to Tony's limo. Tony got in first and then Steve was shoved in after him. Brutus got in, shut the door and Tony gave the order to Happy to start driving. Steve was trapped.

At least his watch had started glowing green, which meant the threat was imminent. And it stayed green as Happy drove, which meant one of the men in the car was Steve's target. So, maybe getting grabbed by Tony's bodyguard had been a good thing.

Tony glared at him as he took a swig from his water bottle. "Fuck, Steve. I can't believe you left me hanging like that. The place was fucking trashed and I had a concussion and...fuck. Do you know how many people were pissed about that?"

Steve sighed. "Yeah, I know. I had to fill out an incident report."

Tony's nostrils flared. "An incident report, huh? You got off easy, you asshole. You know what I had to put up with? Everybody thinking I was fucking insane. The fire department said it was a burst gas main, probably because you told them to say that. And so nobody wanted to hear about the evil lizards even though there were lizard guts literally everywhere. For awhile, everyone thought Stane would end up as Dad's successor. Thank god he didn't. The guy turned out to be batshit crazy."

Tony paused just long enough for another swig before launching into the story of how he had battled Obadiah Stane in something called an Iron Man suit.

Steve was a little stunned by how fast Tony was talking. "That's not really water, is it?" It couldn't be. It had to be some sort of energy drink.

"Nope. Vodka. Just like water, only better."

"Should you really be drinking in the middle of the day?"

"Probably not. But that's why Happy's driving. Right, Happy?"

"Yes, sir." Happy craned his neck to eye Steve in the mirror, looking at him almost accusingly.

Right, sure. It was all Steve's fault that Tony was drunk at noon. Tony had somehow known he would show up today and that's why he was carrying around a water bottle full of vodka. Right.

Happy settled back in his seat. In the rearview mirror, Steve saw several reptilian figures closing in.

"Stop the car," Steve said urgently. "We're being followed."

"Nice try," said Happy. "You just want-"

"Do it," Tony said.

Happy huffed, but he pulled over to the side of the road.

"I'm getting out," Steve said. He leaned over Tony for the door handle. Tony didn't object, so Steve scrambled over him and dove out of the car.

Hefting his shield, he waited for the chitauri to make their approach. In the background he could hear Tony saying, "See, Happy? This is where it gets good."

Ugh. Tony sounded too close, like he was no longer in the car. Because of course he wouldn't be. Tony couldn't possibly stay back where it was safe. Steve grimaced and held the shield higher. This was his life. Protecting Tony even when the idiot made his job harder.

Thankfully, there were only six chitauri and no explosions so this time Steve was not going to have to fill out an incident report.

When the last of the chitauri had gone down, Steve turned to find Tony and Happy watching him. Tony was lounging against the hood of the car, looking smugly satisfied. Happy, on the other hand, was pretty ashen.

Steve sighed. If Happy keeled over and had a heart attack, there would be more reports to fill out and Agent Romanov would have to be called in to take over. And it would all be Tony's fault.

But Tony patted Happy's shoulder. "Hell of a show, right? I can drive home if you want to drink it all in."

And that got Happy snapping back to life. "Nope. You're drunk. I'm driving."

Tony shrugged and shot Steve a knowing smile. "Okay, back in the car. I'm not letting you off easy just because you saved my life. You still owe me an explanation, remember?"

Steve didn't feel like telling Tony much of anything, especially with Happy right there listening in. And surprisingly, Tony didn't demand that he talk. Tony had stopped berating him about the disastrous mission of '98 and settled into silently staring at him. Tony's expression was somewhere between awe and intense curiosity. As if he longed to open Steve up on an operating table and see what made him tick.

So it was a great relief to Steve when the limo finally pulled up in front of a mansion. It was at least three stories tall, all glass and sleek metal curves. Tony babbled on about reconstruction and a Mandarin attack. Steve tuned him out and focused on committing the house to memory. He had never seen architecture like this before and it would make a fantastic sketch when he had some downtime later.

He could have sat in the car, just staring for another few minutes. But Brutus was insistent that he get out so Steve reluctantly followed Tony up to the front door.

Tony was met at the door by a pretty redhead in a skirt and blazer. Steve would have assumed she was Tony's secretary, but this was Tony's house and secretaries didn't usually-on second thought, this was Tony Stark, so yes, he probably had a live-in secretary.

"Look, Pepper, I found Steve again," Tony said exuberantly, dragging Steve in through the doorway. "I told you I wasn't crazy."

"Steve," Pepper said in a flat voice. She eyed Steve as if he were a puppy tracking mud onto a nice clean floor. What was it with all of Tony's employees hating him?

"Yep. Definitely the same guy. I never forget a face."

"Liar," she snorted. "You don't even remember half the people you sleep with."

"Shut up, Pep."

"My god, Tony. How many is it now?"

Tony shrugged. "I lost count somewhere past three hundred."

"Jesus."

"No big deal," Tony said loftily. "Now, we are going down to my lab and we're going to talk about something besides what an amazing lover I am. Well, we can talk about that, too, but-no, Pepper, no. Absolutely not."

Pepper froze, halfway towards an ornate oaken table piled high with papers.

"That can wait," Tony said. "All of it. How can you think of work at a time like this? I've got a time-traveling, alien-fighting hottie here. Everything else can wait." Tony grabbed Steve's arm and dragged him in the direction of the stairs.

The lab was almost familiar. Tables of metal parts, glass screens, robots tucked into the corners of the room. Steve was sure there was another one just like it at SHIELD headquarters. But it made sense. Stark Industries had made a lot of their equipment. A different Stark, but still.

Tony shucked off his shirt and jacket and tossed them over one a robot. He picked up a coffee mug and leaned against the table, eying Steve as he took a sip. "So, start talking. There is some reason I'm an old man now and you're still-" he waved a hand, "-that. Do you stay young forever or what?"

"Yeah," Steve said. He had been with SHIELD for longer than a normal lifespan and he still looked twenty-seven, exactly the same as the day he had first joined.

Tony looked disappointed. "Damn. I was hoping time travel would be involved. I mean, you're wearing pretty much the same thing I saw you in last time."

His shirt had been white then (which Steve remembered because it had gotten stained with blood), not green but Steve decided not to argue with him on that point.

"That too."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Keep talking."

Steve sighed. Director Fury had stressed that it was better to get in and get out, damaging the timestream as little as possible. Usually that meant taking out the chitauri before too many people saw and started panicking about an alien invasion. But telling people about SHIELD could probably start a panic just as easily with all the government conspiracy nutjobs out there.

But somehow, he trusted Tony not to blab everything to the media. Tony had tried as a teenager and had gotten labeled as crazy. He probably wasn't going to risk it again.

Steve took a deep breath. "SHIELD's job is to protect important historical figures from being killed by the chitauri," he said.

Tony nodded slowly. "So I'm an important historical figure in whatever time you come from. What is it, like, 3000 there?"

"We're actually not a part of the timestream anymore." They all still counted their time with SHIELD in hours, days, years. They had to have some kind of time system set up so everyone would know when to meet up for a mission, when to dim the lights for sleep, how long they had all been living this crazy life in the middle of nullspace or whatever it was called. So, technically he should have told Tony that he was living in 796 A.S. But he didn't want to confuse him further.

"Huh," Tony said, his forehead creased in a frown.

Tony seemed to be taking the news remarkably well. A lot better than Steve did when he was recruited. But to be fair, he came from a time before cell phones. Just about everything at SHIELD had seemed like baffling alien technology.

"Well then," Tony said. "I was kind of a dick to you earlier, but you saved my life again anyway, so I owe you my thanks. I'd offer you money, but money is probably meaningless to you." He squinted at Steve and then brightened. "Ooh, I know. I could give you a blowjob."

Steve spluttered. "E-excuse me? Did I, did I just hear you right? Did those words actually come out of your mouth?"

Tony nodded, looking oddly calm, as if this was completely normal. "Sure did. But I can use other words. How about me, on my knees, sucking-"

"Tony, have you gone insane?"

Tony huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Look, Cap. There are very few ways I can repay you for saving my life. I can't offer you a job since you clearly already have one, I can't make you some cool tech since admittedly, your stuff is way better than mine. Besides spending money and building gadgets, sex is probably my only other skill."

"No," Steve said. "You are not prostituting yourself for me."

Tony's mouth opened as if to protest and then shut without a word. He sighed and looked away. "Damn. That was my only idea. Now I have no idea how to repay you."

"You don't need to," Steve said. "It's my job." Tony opened his mouth again and Steve added quickly, "If you have to do something, get me a copy of the newspaper. Hafta make sure I didn't screw anything up this time."

Tony nodded eagerly, looking a little relieved. "Sure. I can do that. I can get you papers for any city in America and probably half of Europe and Asia, too, if you'd like."

"Just for Malibu, thank you," Steve said. "It's all I need to know."

Tony looked crestfallen, but he darted up the stairs, yelling for Happy and Pepper, for Brutus, for anybody who would listen. "Steve needs a newspaper," he said. "The fate of the world depends on it."

Steve sighed heavily. Oh Tony.

A newspaper was found in little over five minutes and Tony presented it proudly to Steve. "Here you are, Cap," he said.

Steve tucked the paper under his arm. "Thanks for the tour, Tony. It's a nice place. But next time, please, for the love of god, don't kidnap me."

Steve hadn't been counting on there being a next time. But five months later, he found himself in a room with a high ceiling, a crystal chandelier, and a twenty-two year old Tony Stark curled up on a faded floral couch, his face contorted as he clutched at his chest.

"Tony! Tony, are you hurt?" For a moment, Steve worried that he hadn't gotten there in time. The time watches were a little finicky. Sometimes, he had arrived up to an hour before a chitauri incursion. But so far, he had never arrived late.

Tony shook his head and the tension in Steve's chest lifted. "Not hurt," he said. "Not physically, anyway."

Steve sat down on the couch beside him. "What happened?"

Tony looked away. "I'm an orphan now."

"Oh, Tony. I'm so sorry." He didn't know what to else to say. Tony wasn't a close friend. Would hugging him be too forward? Should he leave him to grieve in peace?

Tony hunched his shoulders. "Dad passed last year. It was...it was hard. But I knew it was coming. Dad was getting old. He was in his seventies, you know. Not that anyone could really tell. He was always so vibrant, so energetic. No one dreamed of telling him to retire and step down."

Steve patted Tony's shoulder. He knew what Howard had been like. Of course he would have kept working right until the bitter end.

"I mean, everyone dies sometime, right?" Tony said, a forced casualness in his voice.

"Right," Steve said. Almost everyone.

"But Mom," Tony said, and his mouth twisted, his eyes starting to well up. "She shouldn't have gone so soon. But a fucking drunk driver-" He started sniffling, unable to finish his sentence.

"Oh, Tony," Steve said again. He gingerly pulled Tony closer, giving him all the opportunity in the world to escape the embrace if he didn't want to be hugged. But Tony collapsed into his arms willingly, sobbing against Steve's chest. He could smell the alcohol on Tony's breath. Whiskey, probably.

Steve sympathized. He had tried drinking away the pain when he lost Bucky back in the 40s only to find that he couldn't get drunk anymore. But it had forced him to be strong on his own. Tony would have to learn that lesson the hard way.

"I don't know what to do anymore," Tony said in a small voice. "I'm all alone in this big fucking house and I don't think I can do this on my own."

Steve's watch flared green. He turned, caught sight of the chitauri lurking outside the window (Just one this time? Probably because they knew how vulnerable Tony would be right now), and fired. He winced at the sound of breaking glass. Tony stiffened in his arms, his head raised to stare at the shattered living room window.

"Sorry," Steve said. "I should have-" Done anything besides firing a laser through the window. It was Tony's house, the only thing he had left, and here he was ruining it.

"It's okay," Tony said quietly. "You just saved my life, after all. Again." He squirmed. "I was a brat before and not really grateful for what you've done for me."

"You were grateful in your own way," Steve said. He didn't bring up the blowjob offer. This Tony wouldn't know about that yet.

Tony looked down. "I know you're a very busy man and you probably have no time for girlfriends or boyfriends-"

"Tony, no. You are not prostituting yourself to me." Wow, he never expected to have to say that more than once.

Tony's head snapped up. "This isn't just for you." He leaned forward, hands settling on Steve's shoulders. "I want this for myself."

"I am not taking advantage of you in your grief."

Tony sighed. "You won't be. I wanted to jump you the moment I laid eyes on you." His eyes raked up Steve's body. "And the fact that you've saved my life twice now just makes me want you even more."

Steve gently pried Tony's hands off his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Tony," he said. "Drowning your grief in meaningless sex is like trying to drown it in alcohol. It just won't work."

"It's not meaningless," Tony protested. "It's you. You mean every-"

Steve put a finger over Tony's mouth. "No," he said firmly.

Tony wilted and his eyes welled up with more tears. "I might never see you again."

Steve cupped Tony's face in one hand and gently stroked his cheek with his thumb."You will. At least once, anyway. When you're forty."

Tony took a deep, shuddering breath and sank further into the couch. "Okay," he said. "I'll give it another shot when I'm forty."

The next time was much sooner than forty (twenty-seven, actually), in an early incarnation of Tony's lab. There was only one robot in the room, holding up a flashlight as Tony hammered away at a sheet of metal.

"Hey, Tony. How are you holding up?"

Tony whirled around, the hammer dropping from his hand."Steve! How am I-oh, right. The last time you saw me, I was crying my eyes out like a little bitch."

"There's nothing wrong with grief. Grief is healthy."

Tony sighed. "I still miss Dad sometimes. I was never good at the business part of things. I wish he was here to help me out."

"It's okay to miss him," Steve said. "Hell, even I miss him and I haven't seen him since the war."

Tony's eyes widened. "You were in World War II?"

Steve sighed and cursed his big mouth. For the second time, he found himself explaining SHIELD's function to Tony.

Tony nodded sagely. "Makes sense. You look exactly the same every time I see you." He grinned. "I think you're even wearing the same shirt."

Steve rolled his eyes. As if he hadn't heard that one before.

"Let's get out of the lab," he said. "Wouldn't want a chitauri damaging all the machinery."

Tony led Steve into the living room. It had gone through major changes since the last time. The chandelier was still there, but everything else had changed. The carpet had been replaced with vinyl, there was a new glass coffee table and black couch, even the windows were in a different place than Steve remembered. It was definitely Tony's house now.

Tony disappeared into the kitchen, surfacing with two tall glasses of iced coffee, and a bowl of popcorn. He propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Let's just kick it till the big bads show up, yeah? At least this time I'll be ready for the show." Tony's eyes sparkled with amusement as he snatched a handful of popcorn.

Steve rolled his eyes. There was a line between exciting entertainment and danger. And Tony seemed to enjoy merrily skipping over that line on a daily basis.

Still, he appreciated the coffee. His wounds healed easily, thanks to the serum, but it didn't mean he didn't get worn out and sweaty after a long bout of fighting. He usually didn't get any refreshments until he was back at SHIELD. It was quite nice to sit down and have something to drink before the fighting broke out. And Tony's cheerful babble was comfortable and familiar, even if Steve didn't understand it all. He had never been good with electronics, but he listened anyway, just to see the way Tony lit up when he started talking about nuclear reactors, titanium oxide, and the molecular structure of platinum.

And when the chitauri showed up and Steve fired at them through the window, Tony just doubled over in laughter and said, "Oops, not again."

"Sorry," Steve said, settling back onto the couch. "I really should know better by now. I'm not a damn rookie anymore."

Tony tipped his head to the side. "Just how long have you been doing this anyway?"

Steve shrugged. "Years and years and years. I lose track sometimes. At least fifty years, maybe sixty."

"Wow. You're a lot older than you look."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Physically, I'm still twenty-seven."

Tony's eyes lit up. "So am I. Well, for tonight anyway. I turn twenty-eight tomorrow. It's too much to ask for you to stay for the party, right?"

"Sorry," Steve said. "But happy birthday, anyway."

"Considering that this is probably the only time we might ever be the same age, I think I deserve a special present for my birthday." Tony arched an eyebrow, looking vaguely hopeful.

Steve sighed. It was time to stop telling himself that Tony was just trying to thank him for saving his life. Or that Tony wanted to sleep with him just for the ego boost of bedding a time traveler. This went so much deeper than that. Tony was always delighted to see him again, watched him with wide-eyed awe as he defeated the chitauri, and was completely devastated each time Steve rejected his offer of sex.

Tony was in love with him.

"This is a bad idea," Steve said. "You know we can't possibly have a relationship."

"I know," Tony said. "Never been good at those things anyway. Best I could ever manage was friends with benefits." He flashed Steve a weak smile.

Friends? Yeah, they were sort of friends now. When he wasn't being completely insufferable, Tony was actually someone Steve enjoyed talking with. He could talk to Tony as if he knew him his whole life, instead of just seeing glimpses.

Steve nodded. "I might be okay with that," he said.

Tony's eyes widened. "You...you are? Wow, I didn't think that would work." And then he was grinning widely. "Best birthday ever."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Just as long as you realize that this is probably it. I don't want you pining over me."

"Tony Stark does not pine over anyone. Not even hot time-traveling badasses. So start getting naked, Steve."

"Okay then." Steve hooked his fingers under the hem of his shirt and yanked it off over his head.

Tony stared at his chest for a solid minute and then his eyes darted across the room. He drummed his fingers against his thighs."This is probably a spectacularly bad idea. Even for me. I mean you're a supersoldier. Your dick is probably a weapon of mass destruction."

Steve snorted. "My dick does not shoot lasers, okay? It's perfectly normal." He let his pants drop to the ground.

Tony's eyes went wide."Normal, my ass," he said in an awed voice.

Steve barely resisted the urge to smack him."So, I guess you haven't slept with too many men."

"Nope. Just six." He hesitated. "What about you?"

"Just one." Just Bucky.

"Whoa," Tony said. "Don't start crying. Please? I'm sorry I asked. It must've been a bad experience."

Steve shook his head. "It was a wonderful experience. But he died in the war."

Or at least, Steve had thought so at the time. He had been so elated when he discovered that the friend he thought he had lost back in WWII was alive and well, working for SHIELD. They had spent fifty glorious years as partners and lovers. And then Bucky had gotten killed on a mission. Losing him was just as painful the second time.

Tony's eyes softened with understanding. "I'm sorry. Jesus, I shouldn't have-"

"You couldn't have known."

Steve had told very few people about life in the 40s. It wasn't something he liked talking about, but he found himself suddenly wanting to tell Tony everything. Times had been tough for a gay man, especially when he had been weak and skinny. Steve had been beat up so many times as a teenager. But Bucky had always been there for him, rescuing him before he was beaten to death. Bucky had taught him how to be more discreet, more careful. Somewhere along the line they had become more than friends. And after all Bucky had done for him, Steve still hadn't been able to save him when it mattered the most.

Tony stayed silent as Steve talked, leaning his head against his thigh and gently stroking his hip. Tony was a surprisingly good listener. He stared up at Steve as if he had all the time in the world to listen to him talk, which Steve knew wasn't true. Tony was a busy man. He had a company to run after all.

Steve cleared his throat and sank down onto the couch. "Well, there you have it," he said, feeling embarrassed by how much he had talked.

Tony curled into his side, murmuring quietly as he stroked his shoulder. It was soothing and Steve relaxed, letting a comfortable silence stretch out between them.

"I'm becoming a responsible adult in my old age," Tony said at last, lifting his head just slightly and squinting upwards at Steve. "You're naked and we're just talking sad and serious things."

Steve bit his lip, resisting the urge to laugh. Tony plastered on a mournful expression, but his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"You're terrible," Steve said with a grin. He kissed Tony's forehead. "But I like that about you."

Tony tipped his head back and Steve kissed him again, on the mouth. He could taste the coffee on Tony's breath, and an almost metallic tang that had probably followed Tony from the workshop. It shouldn't have been appealing, but it was. Steve found that he didn't want to stop kissing him until Tony pulled back, gasping breathlessly.

"Coffee table. Drawer," Tony hissed.

Steve leaned down and pulled open the single black metal drawer. Oh, a bottle of lube. Tony kept lube in the living room. Of course he did.

"I have condoms in there, too."

For a moment, Steve couldn't concentrate on anything except the way Tony had sprawled across the couch. He appreciated the view. Really, really appreciated it. The tan skin, lean muscle. And there was a dark intensity in Tony's eyes.

He swallowed and pushed the drawer shut. Condoms were unnecessary. If Tony had anything, he wasn't going to catch it.

Tony licked his lips and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, dragging him back down onto the couch.

Steve knew how badly Tony wanted this, but he tried to take his time. After all, Tony said it had been a few years since he had slept with another man. He tried to be gentle, to be careful. But it was hard with Tony wiggling impatiently against him. Steve spent a lot less time preparing him than he would have liked. Tony just wrapped his legs around Steve's waist and slammed them together so forcefully that Steve couldn't breathe for a moment.

Tony arched back and let out a keening whine. "My god, Steve. You're going to turn me straight."

Steve froze.

"Oh fuck. That didn't come out right, did it?"

"I sure hope not."

Tony squirmed. "I mean, I'll probably have to sleep with women from now on, because no man is ever going to compare to this." He smiled sheepishly. "There. That sounded better."

"A lot better," Steve agreed. He kissed Tony's neck.

"So, now that we've got that settled, could you, um-"

"Just hold on for a minute. You need time to adjust."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. I've done this before, you know. Lots and lots of times. With lots and lots of people. And while I find it admirable that you and Bucky could be completely devoted to each other, it means you don't have as much experience as I do."

Steve snorted. "I've been having sex for longer than you've been alive. I know how this works. I know that if you rush things, you're going to hurt yourself."

"I don't care."

"Well, I do."

Tony fell silent and looked away. A sure sign he knew he was in the wrong.

"This isn't some meaningless hook-up you try to get through as quickly as possible," Steve said. "We're going to take our time and do it right. So we both enjoy this and nobody ends up hurt."

Tony sighed heavily. "Why are you always right?"

Steve smiled. "Years of experience."

Years of sneaking out of Bucky's bunk in the middle of the night, of slipping into an empty alleyway, of catching brief bouts of sex between battles. It had never been enough. Now that there was all the time in the world for sex, Steve wanted to savor the moment. He could probably spend forever listening to the sound of Tony's breathing and running his hands over the flat plane of Tony's stomach. But Tony didn't have that kind of patience.

Tony shifted. "Oh god, I hate waiting. It's only been two seconds, right? Feels so much longer."

It had been closer to thirty seconds, but Steve decided to take pity on him. He rolled his hips and Tony gasped.

"I take it all back. I could wait forever for this and it would still be worth it. Goddamn."

Steve kissed him and Tony lapsed into silence. He knew what a challenge this was for Tony. He was so good at making everything a joke and not letting anyone close enough to see how he really felt. But he could see in Tony's eyes how much he craved intimacy. How much he needed this just as badly as Steve did.

Tony relaxed a lot faster than Steve expected. He tipped his head back and let Steve kiss the underside of his jaw and scrape his teeth against his collarbone. Tony wasn't making any sarcastic commentary about Steve's technique, in fact, wasn't making any commentary at all. He seemed incapable of anything except harsh panting and needy whimpers.

Not that Steve was doing any better. It had been more than a decade since he'd last had sex and orgasm hit pretty quickly. But it was okay, because Tony was shuddering into climax along with him.

And Steve had forgotten how draining sex could be. It was like a really good workout. His arms felt weak. Even the serum wasn't enough to keep him from collapsing onto Tony.

"Urkh," Tony said.

Oops.

Steve rolled off him. "Sorry. You okay?"

"Okay? I'm more than okay. I'm super fucking fabulous."

Yeah, Tony was fine. Already back to his old self.

"I've almost forgotten how much better sex is without a damn condom. I'm clean, of course. But most people don't trust a man with my reputation."

Steve stroked Tony's hair. "I trust you."

"That's why you're the best." Tony nuzzled into his side. "I need to start repaying you for all the wonderful sexiness you bring into my life. Next time you visit, wear something fancy so I can take you out to dinner."

"I don't know if there will be a next time," Steve reminded him gently.

Tony yawned. "Well, if there is a next time. You look damn good in those jeans, but when you wear them all the time, they start to look like a uniform."

"They sort of are." Nobody wanted to think too hard about what clothes were appropriate for what time period, so jeans and a t-shirt were usually the safest choice.

"That's awful," Tony said. "If you get the call to rescue my ass again, wear a suit or something."

"Tony, I won't know it's you until I'm already here."

Tony arched an eyebrow. "They don't tell you? That's messed up."

Steve scratched the back of his head. "They used to. But the names were kind of meaningless to me."

He had been pretty hopeless his first month. People talked about Gates, Jobs, Bacon and Steve had had no idea who they were. There had been several disastrous missions where Steve had tried to guard men who he had thought were the intended targets, and had ended up being wrong. And Clint, who was on clean-up duty, had made it clear after the fourth botched mission, that he was tired of being called to go back and prevent Steve's failure. That he needed to step down if he couldn't get his shit together.

Steve Rogers was not a quitter. He told himself that as he immersed himself in training exercises and spent hours in the gym. He was just going to keep practicing until he became the perfect agent. With every second of spare time he had.

It had been somewhat of a relief when Coulson approached him about taking a few of his missions. Coulson had been a CIA agent in the timestream and he was a little wistful for the days when he had worked as a field agent. Steve had handed over the rest of the week's missions to the other man without question. And then he had immediately forgotten about it. The days blended together when he didn't have to worry about leaving the training center.

Then came the news that Agent Coulson had been gravely wounded on a mission, and was presumably dead. Fury even showed him a blood-spattered set of Captain America trading cards.

Coulson had admired and respected the hero Steve had once been. And since his arrival at SHIELD, Steve had done nothing to live up to that. The only thing he could do was redo Coulson's mission and avenge his death.

He had blown through sixteen chitauri soldiers before he realized that he hadn't been watching for his target. And that he hadn't seen Coulson go down in battle.

And then Coulson stepped out from behind a tree, smiling proudly and congratulating him on his first successful mission.

Steve couldn't muster up too much anger with the man. Especially after he sat him down and explained that he was meant to be an offensive asset. He worked best when he threw himself into the fight and stopped worrying so much about who he was protecting. He could save his target better by eliminating the chitarui as quickly as possible.

The missions had gone a lot better after that. People finally started seeing him as more than a screw-up.

And Clint stopped mouthing off after Steve kicked his ass in a sparring match. After awhile, Steve's failure rate was almost zero, the lowest in SHIELD. And everyone began calling him Captain, even the agents who outranked him by twenty years.

"Well, then," Tony said. "You can borrow some of my clothes when and if you show up again."

Steve spent the next hour trying on all of Tony's clothes. Unfortunately, none of Tony's clothes really fit him. Tony's body was all lean muscle and thanks to the serum, Steve's muscles were a lot more pronounced. The only thing that actually fit Steve was a hoodie that Tony wore when he wanted to go out in public without being recognized. It had to have been pretty baggy on Tony, but it fit Steve perfectly.

"It was a nice thought," Steve said. "But too bad I'm not your size."

"Jarvis will figure out your measurements," Tony said. He grabbed his laptop off his desk and flipped it around to face Steve. "Jarvis, this is Steve."

"Plea...to make your...tance, Cap...gers."

"Fuck." Tony smacked the laptop with the back of his hand. "Goddamn voice simulator's still buggy. Thought I fixed that already. Jarvis, did you get Steve's measurements?"

The speakers crackled. "...ly, sir."

"Goddamnit. Yes or no, Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir. Scan...plete."

"Okay, great. Save those to my personal server. I'll need them for my shopping spree tomorrow."

Steve groaned. "Please don't buy me a whole new wardrobe. You don't need to do that."

"Sure I do. In case you hadn't realized, I'm a billionaire. Spending money is practically my hobby."

"You don't really spend this much money on your friends, do you?"

Tony shrugged. "Well, usually I just give them a couple grand and tell them to knock themselves out. Because I hate shopping. But knowing you, you'd probably end up buying some designer t-shirts, which, while nice, would defeat the purpose. You need some suits, maybe a polo shirt or two, definitely a-"

Steve put a hand over Tony's mouth. "One suit and that's it."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. Be that way. When I get the pool fixed, you'll just have to dive in naked." Tony's eyes brightened. "Actually, yes, you're right. What was I thinking? Buying you swim trunks would have been a total waste of money."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Goodbye, Tony."

"Bye," Tony said with a wistful smile. "See you in a few years."

Steve pressed a quick kiss to Tony's forehead. If he stayed any longer, Tony would probably be able to talk him into another round of sex. And he really didn't want to go back to SHIELD straight after a bout of sex. Clint would know. Would hone in on his afterglow like he had a sixth sense for detecting sex. Who was he kidding? Even hours later, Clint was probably still going to notice.

But Clint just gave him a thumbs up as they passed in the hallway. "Looks stylin, Cap," he said. "About time you updated your wardrobe."

It was then that Steve realized he was still wearing Tony's hoodie.

Thirty-Year-Old Tony laughed as Steve handed back the jacket. "Thought you were taking home a souvenir of your sexual conquest." He lowered his eyelids. "And speaking of sexual conquests..."

Over the next three years, Steve rescued Tony nine times. Steve had to explain SHIELD's function another three times to Tony in his early and mid twenties. But it was okay, because it was a chance to see Tony. A chance to put on the (probably ridiculously expensive) suit Tony had bought for him and waltz with him beneath the large chandelier, to eat Indian takeout from a place up the street, to curl up on the couch and watch movies that had come after Steve's time, and maybe a round of sex or two.

Life was good. Too good.

After his ninth visit with Tony, Steve cornered Clint in the gym.

"Do you ever get the same target more than once?"

"Yep," Clint said instantly. "Einstein. He was the worst. I saved his ass twice, Natasha six times, and I think even you had a go. You remember who Einstein is, right? The guy with the poofy-"

"I remember." So this was normal. Thank god.

"Why do you ask? Found a hot chick, er, dude in the timestream?"

"Something like that."

Clint thumped his shoulder. "Don't get too attached. It starts with leopard print bikinis, and it turns into dentures and canes."

Steve frowned. "Uhh, sure. I'll take your word for it."

Clint's expression softened. "You'll find someone eventually. Probably when you least expect it. I mean, look at me and Nat."

Clint had found Natasha on mission to Soviet-era Russia twenty years ago. He had been gone for six days and everyone was starting to panic that he had gotten killed, or worse, captured and tortured for information on the time watch technology. But then Clint had stormed back into SHIELD headquarters with Natasha in tow, demanding to add her to the team. Natasha had sat in the hallway for three days, cleaning her gun and filing her nails as Clint and Fury argued. In the end, since Natasha's absence from her time hadn't caused any catastrophic events, Fury had grudgingly welcomed her to the team.

She had fit in perfectly. She was quick, stealthy, good with knives, guns, and hand to hand combat. And teamed with Clint, she was an even more formidable force. Especially when they were both focused on Steve's love life, or lack thereof.

He appreciated their effort. Really, he did. They meant well. But he had already had a painfully awkward conversation with Coulson about how he respected Steve as a national hero and as an agent, but he wasn't gay and he was sorry if he had been giving Steve that indication.

Steve had come to terms with being the only gay man in SHIELD. This thing with Tony was as good as he was going to get, for as long as it lasted.

Of course, life with Tony was never going to be perfect.

It was sad, really, how many times Steve had stood at the top of the stairs and heard Jarvis say in a tone of near-relief, "Welcome back, Captain Rogers. Sir is down in the workshop. I'll inform him of your arrival." Followed by, "It has been seventy-two hours since sir has slept and fourteen hours since he has consumed anything besides coffee."

And Steve would head downstairs and try to coax Tony into putting down the tools for just a minute, just long enough to come up to the kitchen for a sandwich, maybe lie down for a quick nap. The pleas never worked of course. When Tony was sleep-deprived, he was full of wide-eyed, manic energy. Steve always had to resort to coming up behind him and sliding a hand down the front of his pants. Then Tony was willing to listen to anything he said. Willing to collapse bonelessly into his arms and let himself be carried up the stairs into the bedroom.

Usually at that point, Tony was too far gone for conversation. He just sputtered incoherently as Steve unzipped his jeans and wrapped a hand around his length.

Steve hated the way Tony disregarded the world when he immersed himself in one of his projects. But it was hard to be upset when Tony approached sex with same single-minded focus. Gazing at him with searing intensity and writhing against him as if he'd die unless he touched as much of Steve as possible. Tony never lasted very long when he was wound up so tightly, but that was okay.

Afterward, Tony nuzzled against Steve as he cleaned him up and tucked him into bed, sleepily promising to return the favor. Of course he would. Two or three hours later, when he staggered into the living room with mussed hair, rumpled clothes and a wide grin on his face as dropped to his knees in front of the couch.

In the meantime, Steve just helped himself to some of Tony's coffee and waited for the chitauri to show up.

Tony was thirty-five when Steve had his first contact with the arc reactor. Tony's exuberant hug had been a little painful, felt like colliding with a sheet of metal instead of a human being.

"Oops," Tony said sheepishly. "I forget about the damn thing sometimes." He lifted the hem of his shirt and tapped a hand against the metal circle imbedded in his chest. "Hey, quit fucking with my love life, you piece of shit," he said almost fondly.

Steve tried to keep his voice calm. "Tony, what the hell is that?"

Tony's arms dropped back to his side. "Oh, right. You missed out on my great adventure a few years ago. Holed up in a fucking cave and everything."

Tony talked for over an hour and Steve was astonished by all Tony had been through. He had always thought Tony was a strong and capable person, but now the man was apparently a superhero and had saved the lives of countless people.

All at a terrible personal cost.

Steve hesitantly put his hand to Tony's chest, tracing the outline of the glowing triangle in the center with one finger. "Does it ever come out?"

"Why? Do you hate it?"

"It's not about what I want," Steve said. "It's your body."

Tony shrugged. "Pepper's been bitching at me to get some proper surgery done so I don't have to have it anymore. But, you know me. I'm too busy and too lazy to head to the hospital. Hospitals suck."

Steve didn't recall seeing Forty-Year-Old Tony with the arc reactor, so eventually Tony had to have given in and gotten the surgery. "She probably means well," he said. "It must have been hard watching you start to die right in front of her."

Tony looked away. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Right in front of her."

"You didn't tell her? Tony, why?"

"I told her, okay? Just not right away. Didn't want her freaking out."

"Jesus Christ. You could have died. People are supposed to freak out when that happens."

Tony hunched his shoulders. "But I didn't. And I knew I wasn't going to. Not for a few years anyway. So why should I worry her?"

Steve sighed. "Your friends are supposed to be there for you when you're hurting. But how can they do that when you just keep pushing people away?"

"Pepper's done enough for me already. Happy warned me that this Killian guy might end up taking her away from me. And I wouldn't blame her for leaving me. I've been waking her up every night with my fucking nightmares."

Steve rubbed Tony's shoulder. "Nightmares are normal. Especially in your line of work." He'd had his share of nightmares, echoes of the horrors he had witnessed in the war. And Bucky had stayed up with him most nights, whispering soothingly to him until he stopped gasping for breath and could lie back in bed.

"But I can't do this to Pepper," Tony said. "She's practically running the company for me most days. And she can't be at her best if she doesn't get enough sleep."

"It's not your fault," Steve said. "I'm sure Pepper understands-"

"We had a fight last week," Tony said. "And we agreed its best for now that she sleeps alone." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact, but the hunched shoulders and downcast eyes told a different story.

Steve cupped Tony's face in his hands and took a good, long look at him. Tony had aged five years since he had last seen him, but the weary lines weren't just from aging.

"You haven't slept all week, have you?"

Tony pulled away from him. "Sure I have. I take power naps."

"That doesn't count. You need to sleep in a bed from time to time. We've talked about this."

Tony sighed. "I can't. I've tried, but I just lay there in this big empty bed looking at the ceiling all night. I'd rather be doing something productive."

"I'll spend the night."

Tony's mouth settled into a wistful smile."Thanks for the offer," he said. "But it's noon. You can't stay that long."

"Sure I can. Nobody will get concerned until I've been gone for more than a day."

Steve felt only slightly guilty about staying with Tony all day when he could be moving on to other missions. But then again, it was supposed to be his day off. He just couldn't say no when Clint had asked to swap shifts with him so he and Natasha could celebrate their ten-year anniversary.

Tony 's eyes lit up. "Hell yes. Just think of all the stuff we can do with a full day and night together."

"As long as sleep's included on the list."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Of course we'll be sleeping together. But, that comes later. First, I'm taking you to a movie marathon."

And by that, Tony meant dragging him into the lounge to watch movies on the big plasma TV.

They watched the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy, _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_, and _Pirates of the Caribbean_ before Tony put his foot down.

"No more period pieces, Cap. I'm going to have tech withdrawals. Don't you want to watch any sci-fi?"

"We are not watching any sci-fi. All you ever do is complain that the science is unrealistic."

"Sir," Jarvis cut in. "Perhaps you would like to show the Captain footage of your latest exploits."

"Perfect. Pull up everything from the last five years." Tony grinned. "You're in for a treat, Cap. All of my first fuck-ups were hilarious."

Steve had been worried that Tony would be depressed by seeing himself fail on film. But Tony seemed genuinely excited to relive his past. He was bouncing on the edge of his seat with anticipation as his previous self announced that he would start off at ten percent power.

"No, don't do it, you dumbass. Don't do it."

On screen, Tony rocketed backwards and smacked hard into the wall.

Steve winced but Tony howled with laughter and stomped his feet against the ground. "Bam! Oh god, what an idiot."

"That looked like it hurt."

"Sure did," Tony said. "But, look, here I am the very next week torching all my fancy cars-oops, spoiler alert."

Steve watched Tony's wobbly first flight around the workshop, cringing along with Tony as the repulsors swept over the hood of one of the cars. But there were no major incidents and Tony touched back down safely onto the ground.

"Yeah, I can fly," Tony said at the same time as his on-screen counterpart.

Steve squeezed his shoulder. He felt so lucky to have this glimpse into Tony's workings. In each video, Tony's prototype was better. The failures were only making him work harder, come back stronger and Steve admired his perseverance. This was exactly what Tony needed. Something to see to cheer him up after his drama with Pepper and remind him of his inner strength.

The partial prototypes melted into full suits and Tony curled into Steve's side, explaining all the technical capabilities of each suit in a low whisper.

The screen dimmed and Tony's commentary faded out.

"Wow," Steve said. It had been a good show. He hadn't realized exactly how many suits Tony had made. But seeing each of them, performing to the best of their capabilities, he was impressed all over again. Tony was just an unstoppable force of nature.

The screen brightened again on an image of Tony standing in the middle of the workshop in just a pair of jeans. There were black lines radiating out from the reactor, all the way up to his neck. Steve drew in a sharp breath. Oh god.

"Yeah, it's as bad as it looks," Tony said to the camera. His face was pale and haggard. He looked a hundred times worse than he did now.

"I wanted to tell you. I've tried a dozen times. But, I didn't want to worry you. I kept thinking I could do this somehow. That I'd survive to see Steve again. But I'm running out of time and I don't know what else to do." Tony ran a hand through his hair. "God, Pepper, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything." His eyes welled with tears and he turned away. "I can't right now. Just shut it off."

The screen went dark and stayed dark.

"Jesus, Tony. Did you actually show this to Pepper?"

No response.

Steve nudged him and Tony only murmured something about Venn diagrams and snuggled further into his side. So, he had finally fallen asleep. Good.

He gently eased Tony's tablet out of his hand and placed it on the end table. Tony would probably wake up in the middle of the night and want to do work, but too bad. He needed sleep more than he needed to work on another idea.

"Let's get you to bed, sweetheart."

He scooped Tony off the couch, surprised by how easy it was to pick him up. Tony's personality made him seem larger than he was. Now that he was carrying him up the stairs, it was easy to see how fragile and vulnerable he really was.

"Check this out," said Thirty-Two-Year-Old Tony. He lifted up his shirt.

Steve had known this day would come and he had told himself when it did, he would feign surprise and act impressed as Tony proudly showed off his handiwork. But he traced his fingers over the edge of the reactor and felt his chest tighten. This was the early version of the reactor. Before the palladium had started poisoning him. Before Obadiah Stane had ripped it out of his chest. Steve could see the optimism in Tony's face and it broke his heart to know what the future had in store for him.

"Oh, Tony," he said sadly. "I wish you would be more careful. I hate seeing you hurt."

Tony shrugged his shirt back down. "I wasn't asking to be shot by terrorists and left to die in a cave. But this thing saved my life. And it's a damn good thing too. It's given me a totally new outlook on life. I was a shitty human being, Steve. I was a goddamn weapons manufacturer. "

"Soldiers need weapons," Steve said. "It's a fact of life."

"See, I thought that once. I thought if I designed better weapons, it would keep our soldiers safer. But my own weapons are being used against us. So." Tony tapped the reactor. "I made myself into a weapon. That way, no one else has to get hurt. I can actually save people for once."

"And that's a very noble calling," Steve said. "But promise me you'll save yourself first."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Don't be a hypocrite. You put your life in danger all the time."

"Your life is more important than mine."

"Bullshit. You're Captain America. You're a national hero."

"Was," Steve said. "For all intents and purposes, Captain America is dead now, as soon as my plane slipped below the ice. Now, I'm just Steve Rogers, agent of SHIELD."

"And I'm sure you're the best damn agent they have. If something happened to you-"

"Tony," Steve said sternly. "You are a very important man. If you die before your time, it'll change the world as we know it."

Tony gaped at him. Steve didn't know what he was so surprised. Tony had often bragged about the fact that his company was the best in the field, that he was the greatest genius of the twenty-first century. Apparently he had never believed his own words.

"Tony," Steve said in a gentler voice. "I'm not asking you to change. It's important that you stay exactly who you are. But please don't take any unnecessary risks because you think your future is guaranteed. I don't think I could live with myself if being with you put you in danger somehow."

Tony pressed his forehead against Steve's. "I'll be careful," he said. "I want to see my future just as much as you do."

Tony was still thirty-two when Steve walked into Tony's spacious boardroom. Like the rest of Tony's tower, most of the room was window, showing off a fantastic view of the rest of New York. Not that Tony was appreciating the view at the moment. He had his back to the window, facing the long table of eighteen board members.

"No, no, no, this is going to get done on _my_ schedule and _my_ schedule says-" Tony came to a halt in the middle of his sentence and his eyes lit up with delight.

Steve cleared his throat. "Gentlemen."

All eyes were suddenly on him, a mixture of confused and annoyed. _Who is this? How did he get in here?_

"Security officer," Tony said. "What do you have for me, Rogers?"

"There's, ah, a bomb threat. If everyone could please evacuate in an orderly fashion."

The board had risen to their feet before he was done speaking, muttering to each other and as they left, as if Steve had announced a traffic jam or some other minor annoyance. Well, they did work with Tony, Steve reminded himself. They were probably used to all sorts of craziness by now.

"Thank god," Tony said with a long, drawn-out sigh of relief. "I thought they'd never leave."

Steve smiled. Tony hated being CEO. Steve had listened to him rant about the job several times. And Tony's rants usually included curse words strung together in ways Steve had never heard before.

"So," Tony said. "Now that we've got the place to ourselves." He waggled an eyebrow.

"Not yet," Steve said. The large glass window offered a wonderful view of the city, sure, but now it had a better view of the chitauri streaking towards the building.

"Get down," Steve said automatically. He didn't really expect Tony to listen to him anymore. But the instinct to try and keep Tony out of danger was still there.

He dropped into a fighting stance, the shield protecting him from the shards of glass as the the horde of chitauri smashed through the window. But before he could move, there was a low whine and two chitauri went down in a burst of white light. Steve looked over his shoulder. Tony had his sleeves rolled up and Iron Man gauntlets over both hands.

"I've got your back," Tony said with a grin. "Eyes up front, Cap."

Steve threw himself back into the battle just in time to block the chitauri's punch. He brought his shield down over the alien reptile's head and as it began to stagger, he kicked it in the gut, sending it stumbling back into its comrades. Tony's repulsors took down those left standing.

The boardroom was a wreck, Steve thought ruefully. The table was completely obliterated and there was the crunch of glass under his boots with each step. He was going to get another incident report for sure. But Tony was safe and that was all that mattered.

Tony brushed bits of wood and plaster out of his hair and beamed. "Steve. That was awesome. High five."

"Uh," said Steve, looking at the gauntlet. He wasn't in the mood to have his hand shot off.

"Oh, right." Tony slid the gauntlet off and held his hand up again.

Steve brought their hands together and then curled his fingers inwards, gently squeezing Tony's hand. "That was amazing, Tony."

"That was nothing," Tony said cheerfully. "I'm kind of a superhero myself. I can fly and everything." He nudged Steve with one hip. "We make a great team, don't we? Time-traveling badass and sexy genius. We should totally do this more often."

"Yeah," Steve said. If only they could. Tony had never looked more alive than he did fighting by his side.

"So, now that we've saved the day, let's head somewhere a little more private to celebrate."

A quick peek out the door ensured that Tony's board was nowhere in sight. Tony hummed happily as he stepped into the hallway. It seemed that word of the bomb threat had spread and the entire floor had cleared out. A good thing, too. Because Tony had never let go of his hand.

"Back to your place?" Steve asked.

"Nope. Someplace closer." Tony opened a door and tugged Steve inside.

Steve eyed the shelves of cleaning supplies. "The janitor's closet?"

Tony grinned. "Romantic, isn't it? Just the two of us, squished in like sardines."

It wasn't the least bit romantic having a door knob jammed against his back. Still, Tony was squirming against him and Steve decided he could ignore a little discomfort.

He shoved Tony back against the shelving. Bottles of Pine Sol and Clorox clattered to the ground, masking Tony's groan as Steve cupped his rear.

Huh. Maybe this would be more fun than he thought.

Tony sprawled across Steve's lap and flung a hand over his forehead. "Steve, you are too perfect. God bless your parents for giving birth to such an amazing human being. They're a credit to their country."

The corners of Steve's mouth twitched. "They had a little help, you know."

"Right. God bless the supersoldier serum for giving you those muscles. And your cock. God bless that, too."

Steve chuckled. "My mother's probably rolling over in her grave right now, lamenting my debauchery."

Tony snorted. "And my mother's probably telling your mother that it could be so much worse. I mean, she could have me as a son. I'm the very definition of debauched." He sighed. "I guess it's a good thing she died before she could see me really go to shit."

Steve stroked Tony's hair. "You have not gone to shit. You should be proud of the man you've become."

"Eh, probably not. I can still hear her saying, 'Anthony Edward Stark, you do not call young ladies bitches.'"

"Ew, you actually do that?"

"It's not all the women, okay? Just the ones who won't get out of my bed the next morning. The ones I can stand just long enough for a quick fuck and then never want to see again. And of course, those are the chicks who won't leave until you say, 'Get the fuck out of my house, dumb bitch.' It's horrible."

"Then maybe you shouldn't be sleeping with them. Just a thought."

Tony waggled a finger. "You're not supposed to change me, remember?"

"It's tempting sometimes. Sometimes I want to go back in time and tell your mother she's going to give birth to a brat."

Tony rolled onto his back and grinned up at Steve. "Liar. You know you love me."

"Taste this," Tony said, shoving a spoonful of what looked like peanut butter into Steve's mouth.

Steve sighed. By now he was used to Tony pouncing on him with new foods to try. In one of his more restless moods, Tony had decided to teach himself how to cook. And Steve was certainly in support of anything that got Tony away from eating takeout every night. And it was always amusing to watch Tony in the kitchen, yelling at the tiny robot he created just to dump cupfuls and half-cupfuls of ingredients into the mixing bowl.

Steve dutifully ate everything Tony made, even his first batch of cookies, which were lumpy and a little burnt on one side. Tony had greatly improved from these first failures and had become a pretty competent cook. The only problem was when Tony decided he didn't want to follow the recipe books. Steve was always a little leery when Tony asked him to try a new concoction.

But there was no way he could go wrong with peanut butter. Tony had probably just picked up a new brand at the grocery store and wanted his approval before-wow, that was good. Really, really good.

"This is probably the best peanut butter I've ever had," Steve said. He had licked every morsel of peanut butter off the spoon already, but he licked it again anyway, a little regretfully.

Tony grinned. "It better be. It's made with maple syrup."

"And you know how I love maple syrup."

"Oh, I've heard all about your fondness for maple. Your sweet spot, as it were."

Steve propped his elbow on the kitchen counter and twirled the spoon in his hand. "Maple syrup was a luxury when I was growing up," he said.

"I know. You told me."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "And you remembered?"

"Of course I did. It brought a tear to my eye just thinking of all those waffles going naked."

Steve rolled his eyes. "We didn't suffer that much. There was always canned fruit."

"Still not as good as maple syrup."

"No," Steve admitted. "Not nearly as good." He let the spoon slip out of his fingers and clatter against the counter. "Thanks, Tony. You spoil me."

Tony flashed a quick grin. "I love spoiling you. Especially with delicious, unhealthy stuff. It'll save you from the chalk water you drink."

"It's called protein powder, Tony. And you should it try it sometime. It's full of vitamins."

Tony made a face. "Vitamins. I think I'm allergic to those."

Steve laughed and pulled Tony into a headlock. "And I suppose you'll tell me you're allergic to muscles, too."

Steve leaned back against the headboard, taking a deep breath as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. Tony was curled up beside him, nuzzling into his side. He threaded his hands through Tony's hair, feeling a surge of contentment."God, do I love you."

"I know," Tony said with a smug smirk.

Steve's eyes narrowed. Wow, Tony was just oozing sass today. Probably meant he hadn't fucked him hard enough.

Tony winced. "Uhh, I mean, I love you, too," he said hastily. "Sorry. It's from _Star Wars_. You remember _Star Wars_, right? Han and Leia? God, we've only watched all the movies like six times. The good ones anyway. But, uh, it's a memorable scene and I know I shouldn't be making any of your declarations of love into jokes, but I just couldn't resist-"

Steve put a hand over Tony's mouth. When Tony got worked up about something, he started to talk like a freight train picking up speed. And once he really got going, there was no way to shut him up.

"I know what movie it's from," Steve said.

Tony visibly relaxed and his face split into a wide grin. "Oh. Well, then. If we go by the movie, you'd be Leia and I'd be Han."

Steve rolled over and pinned him down against the bed. "And if we go by the movie, you're about to get your ass frozen in carbonite."

"Yeah, that analogy fell apart pretty quickly."

"And you're going to fall apart even faster." Steve bit down on Tony's collarbone, earning a strangled gasp and a string of noises that only vaguely resembled words.

Steve smiled against Tony's neck. He loved it when Tony got this incoherent.

Steve stood in the middle of the the lower flight deck, shifting impatiently as he waited for the start of his next mission. Missions were pretty much all he did now. When he had a free day, he usually volunteered to help out with the backlog of missions. He needed a lot less down time than the other agents with his serum-enhanced stamina. So it wouldn't hurt to get on Fury's good side and help out. Especially if he knew it was a mission in 2000 or so. Tony wasn't always the target, but if Steve took enough missions, logically he'd spend a few of them with Tony. And he'd rather be with Tony than spending leisure time at SHIELD.

He looked over the rows of agents busily typing away at their computers. Researching world events, weather forecasts, probability of the next chitauri strike. Whatever it was, Steve didn't care. He was so ready for this mission, already planning what he and Tony could do together. He didn't even notice whose hand was on his wrist, inputting the timecode in his watch. (It was Coulson, of course. It was always Coulson.)

"The day will be June 5th, 2018," Coulson said. "Approximately 2 p.m. Pacific Standard time."

2018. Tony would be forty.

And then there was a spiel about the weather. Yes, hot. Steve knew. He'd been to California before. Beautiful, sunny southern California. Maybe he could go for a swim in Tony's pool.

At last, Coulson stepped back, with a faint, knowing smile. "Good luck, Captain Rogers."

And then Steve was in the foyer of Tony's Malibu mansion.

Tony jerked away from the pile of papers he had been sifting through."Wait a minute. Weren't you-didn't you just-I thought-" He gestured broadly with both hands, his eyes darting about the room just as wildly. But abruptly Tony composed himself, his arms dropping back down to his sides. "Oh, you're wearing a red shirt this time. Different shirt, different Steve." He broke into a wide grin. "What's the matter, miss me already?"

Steve's chest tightened. He's been here before. He's been here _today_. Except that this was a different Tony. Same suit, same hair, but definitely a different person. Steve fixated on the outline of the arc reactor visible beneath Tony's undershirt, a bright green hue, almost like-

Oh no. No, no, no, no. no.

"Tony, I can't stay," Steve said desperately.

"You never can," Tony said fondly. "But I love these moments all the same."

"You don't understand," Steve hissed. "There's been a mistake. I already defeated the chitauri today. I shouldn't be here again." He drummed a finger against the watch face as if he could force it to read a different time.

"Maybe another batch decided to show up."

Steve shook his head. "This soon? My previous self would have gotten the alert and stayed to fight them and..." And he would have Negated himself. Steve shuddered at the thought.

"Just give it an hour," Tony said. "That's the working limit, right?"

Steve let himself be led over to the couch, even though his agent's instincts screamed _Abort! Abort_! Tony could be very persuasive when he wanted to be, could almost talk him into believing that maybe Pepper or Happy were in danger this time, maybe, since it had been a few hours since the initial chitauri strike, everyone had forgotten that Steve had lingered so long in 2018, hadn't meant to bring him in literally five minutes after he had left the first time.

Steve sat rigidly on the couch, unable to relax, even as Tony curled into his side. Normally, he would be stroking Tony's hair, pulling him into a kiss. But not now. Now was no time for distractions.

"Chill out, Cap. I can hear you thinking all the way from here." Tony reached for the water bottle on the coffee table and took a long gulp.

Steve shifted. "Couldn't you try drinking actual water for a change?"

"Nah," Tony said. "Fuck that. Why drink plain old water when I can be multitasking and taking my vitamins at the same time? Vitaminwater, it's just like water-"

"Only better," Steve finished, his mouth gone dry.

Tony beamed. "You got it, Cap. So glad you turned me on to this stuff."

Steve scrambled off the couch and stared at the watch face. Still clear.

What the hell had gone wrong? There was no way he had ended up with Tony just because he had been thinking of him. Every mission had its own timecode and field agents weren't allowed to know any of the codes. That had been Coulson's job. Had Coulson punched in the wrong code? Or maybe, maybe this was supposed to have been Clint's mission.

Steve froze. Oh. It was.

He had almost Negated himself because he had volunteered for one of Clint's missions. If he had listened to the mission briefing, he would have realized that he had already been to the same day. But no, he had wanted to see Tony so badly, that everything else had become background noise.

Tony settled in behind him, resting his chin on Steve's shoulder. "Maybe your watch is broken."

Steve turned the dial and the SHIELD logo glowed darkly against the silver watch face, just waiting for him to hit the button on the side and teleport back to headquarters.

"The watch is fine. I'm the broken one." He put his hands on Tony's shoulders and held him at arm's length. "I'm so sorry, Tony. For everything."

"Wait, I-"

Steve hit the button.

Fury shoved a stack of papers to one side of his desk. His good eye flicked briefly to Steve before he started in on the second stack."This had better be important, Rogers."

"It is, sir." Steve took a deep breath. "I'm quitting the unit."

"What?" Fury barked. He slammed both hands down on the desk as he rose to his feet."I pulled a lot of strings to get you here and now you're quitting on me?"

Steve winced. "I know you did, sir. And I really appreciate it. You were the only one to give me a chance when everyone else just saw a fag from the forties."

Fury scowled. "You better not be quitting just because Barton can't stop running his goddamn mouth."

"Oh no, sir. Agent Barton and I get along fine, now. He's not the problem. He even tried to help. He knew before I did, honestly. Way before I did. And he gave me some pretty good advice. I really should have listened to him. I-"

Steve swallowed. Oh god, he was rambling. Just like Tony.

Fury shut his eye and rubbed at his temple."What's his name, Rogers?"

Steve blinked in surprise. "Sir?"

Fury smiled thinly. "The last time you got this incoherent, you were asking permission to marry Agent Barnes."

"Bucky," Steve said quietly.

"He was a good agent," Fury said. "And a good man. Maybe it's finally time for you to move on."

"You don't understand," Steve said. "He's still part of the timestream."

The silence that met his words was like a punch to the stomach. Fury simply stared at him as if he were a stranger, not someone he had been working with for years. Steve shuddered and looked away, bracing himself for the long, angry lecture.

But when Fury finally spoke, his voice was low, almost disappointed. Somehow, that was so much worse than if he had been yelling.

"Love at first sight? This isn't like you, Rogers. You're not a stupid kid anymore. You should know better."

"I know," Steve said miserably. "I tried so hard to resist, but by the fourth visit-"

"Damn it all, Rogers." Fury sighed. "Romanov's going to have to go back and fix this shit before it starts."

Steve took a deep breath. He hated knowing that Natasha's visit would erase all the wonderful moments they had shared from Tony's mind, but he reminded himself that it would be for the best. For both of them.

"His name is Tony Stark."

Fury frowned, eye narrowed in concentration. "Stark. Any relation to-"

"Yes. He's Howard's-I mean, he's Jacob's grandfather."

Fury shook his head. "If he's anything like Jacob Stark, he's a goddamn idiot."

"Oh, no. Tony's not like that at all. He's a genius." Steve recalled the sheets of paper spread out on the floor behind the counter of the convenience store. At the time, Steve hadn't known that they were part of Tony's thesis for MIT, seeing only the rich playboy. That initial impression was far from a complete picture of Tony's personality. The man had so many layers and even after twenty-eight visits, Steve knew he had barely scratched the surface.

"Rogers, I asked you a question," Fury hissed in his ear, dangerously close.

Steve jerked back. "Uh, could you repeat that, sir?"

Fury crossed his arms over his chest. "You're really in love with this asshole, aren't you?"

Steve bowed his head and put his arms behind his back. "Yes, sir. My heart has been compromised. Which is why I'm resigning as a field agent. I can't trust myself around Tony."

"At ease, soldier. I'm not sending you to the firing squad."

Sheepishly, Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry, sir. I just know how seriously you take this job."

Fury rubbed his temples."I'm getting too old for this shit."

Steve drew in a sharp breath. Dr. Banner's formula, cobbled from the latest medical advancements and a bit of Asgardian technology, ensured that SHIELD agents never aged a day. Steve had always thought the effects were permanent, but maybe they wore off after a couple centuries.

"Don't give me that look, Rogers. I'm not dying, just stepping down. After two hundred years of all the shit you agents put me through, I need a little break. I'll work in the control room for a few years and your Mr. Stark can take over for me. He's a CEO, isn't he? He'll probably be perfect for the job."

Steve's eyes widened. "With all due respect, sir, Tony shouldn't be put in charge of anything."

"So, even if that meant never seeing your little boyfriend again, you'd say no to putting him in the position of Director.?

"It's not about me, sir. It's about everyone here. Tony's a damn good fighter and he's a brilliant engineer. But he does things his way. Putting him in charge of so many people, of so many rules and regulations. It would only destroy him." Steve swallowed thickly. "I'd love to have Tony here, but I know that's an impossibility. He's going to keep on creating brilliant things in his own time and working himself to the grave just like his father."

"Good," Fury said. "You're not compromised."

Steve tried to smile. Fury had all but said he didn't have to quit the unit, that his love for Tony hadn't ruined the world. But his mind insisting on focusing on the negative. That Tony would always be part of the timestream. And Steve would always be here.

"Now you've got me curious," Fury said. He pulled a large, leather-bound volume off the bookshelf and sat back at his desk.

The book only seemed like a faded copy of the collected works of Shakespeare. In reality, it was The Book, SHIELD's repository of knowledge on every important figure in the world's history, constructed from all the newspapers Fury had insisted his agents bring back. All Fury had to do was touch the cover and ask to see the life of a certain figure and he could trace most of their life based on what had been printed about them throughout the years. Steve was sure Fury would prefer to look things up on a computer instead, but Jacob had insisted it was safer this way. If SHIELD was ever invaded by chitauri, they would take the computers first. Who would think of stopping to look for a magic book?

"Tony Stark," Fury muttered. He flipped to a page in the middle and grimaced. "This motherfucker. Really, Steve?" He sighed and shook his head. "There's no accounting for taste, I suppose."

Steve shifted nervously. "I know Tony has a reputation as a ladies' man. I'm sure there are, ah, plenty of interesting photographs of him in the newspapers."

"Understatement of the year." Fury turned another page. "The man's a professional partier. It's a wonder he ever got around to all the inventions the chitauri want to kill him for."

Steve smiled. "He's also a professional insomniac. Gets most of his work done at 3 am."

Fury snorted. "Well, I suppose that's a good thing for us. It's just a thirty-five year protection order, and the goddamn chitauri have attacked, what, thirty times? Shit, imagine if Stark was as hardworking as you are. He'd have twice as many fun gadgets and we'd have twice as many chitauri attacks."

"Thirty-five? But that's impossible, sir. I saw him when he was forty."

"I didn't say he died at thirty-five, Rogers. Just said we lifted the protection order on him. He does nothing of historical significance after his defeat of the Mandarin. He retires as Iron Man, devotes himself to his girlfriend, his company, and becomes somewhat of a hermit."

Steve snorted. "I find that hard to believe."

"See for yourself." Fury pushed the book across the desk.

Steve flipped rapidly through the pages. Fury was right. There were articles speculating about Tony's absence from the public eye. And then the rumors turned into negative stock reports, photos of Tony in the hospital, and Tony's obituary.

Steve's mouth went dry. He knew logically, that Tony would die eventually. Everyone in the timestream had to die. It was a fact of life. But imagining a world without Tony seemed like an impossibility. How could the world go on without Tony's brilliant inventions, without Iron Man?

"I don't understand," Steve said. "I saw Tony at thirty-five. He was a superhero, a man on top of the world. And that's when the protection order stops?" Tony at forty years old seemed like a perfectly lively man. A high functioning alcoholic, sure, but still a man with potential. But apparently in SHIELD's eyes, Tony's life had stopped at thirty-five.

"I expect you'll have to ask him yourself," Fury said. "Try early 2021."

Steve ended up in the hallway right outside Tony's bedroom. He carefully pushed the door open and peered inside. Tony was sprawled across the bed in only a rumpled blue dress shirt with most of the buttons undone. There was glass of amber liquid on the nightstand and a few empty bottles of whiskey, vodka, tequila. The floor was covered with crumpled beer cans. Steve grimaced and carefully picked his way over to the bed.

Tony barely moved as he approached the bed. He lifted his head slightly, the glassy-eyed stare vacant. "Oh, hey, Steve. Welcome to the party."

From where Steve was standing, it didn't look like a very fun party. Just Tony and way too much booze. But maybe he was just late. "I thought your birthday was next month."

"It's a pity party." Tony took a swig from the glass. "Pepper left me."

"Oh, Tony." Steve's throat constricted. So this was it. This was the beginning of the end for Tony.

Tony waved a hand dismissively. "Knew it would happen sooner or later. Maybe Rhodey will love her more than I ever could."

Steve sank down onto the bed. "It's my fault," he said. "I shouldn't have gotten in the way." Pepper had been jealous of his relationship with Tony, he was sure. He had only seen her that one time, but the way she had looked at him, as if he were scum, was still seared into his mind.

"Wasn't your fault." Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It was what, twice, three times in all the years Pepper and I were together? For me, that's pretty good. No, we broke up because I don't love her anymore. Because I never really loved her."

"Maybe you would have, if I hadn't-"

"Not your fault, again. I was just tired of sleeping around all the time. Thought maybe I could settle down with someone I kind of cared about and maybe, eventually it would turn into more. I was really hoping I could have the kind of life where I wake up every morning with someone I love. But I always want what I can't have."

Steve cupped Tony's face in his hands. "I know you're drunk, but I need you to listen to me carefully. In a few months, you're going to end up losing your company to Justin Hammer."

Tony bolted upright. "What?! Justin Hammer? Are you fucking kidding me? He's a goddamn idiot. He would never-"

Steve shoved Tony back down into the bed. "Listen to me. You spend the next few months drinking yourself senseless, going through as many women as you can, and making risky bets. Hammer takes advantage of your emotional state."

"Fuck," Tony said. "He'd never be able to keep the company going. He's an idiot."

"And after he's run the company into the ground, your son buys it back and restores Stark Industries to its former glory. But you aren't alive to see that. You die at age 47 of alcohol poisoning."

"Shit." Tony sucked in a deep breath and squinted at him."Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to have that chance to wake up every morning with the person you love."

"How can I possibly do that when the only person I've ever loved is-oh my god. Do you really mean what I think you mean?" There was a fragile sort of hope in Tony's eyes.

Steve caressed his cheek. "Yes. We're planning on taking you out of the timestream. But not now. Earlier." _Before you were a broken shell of yourself. _"Tell me everything you remember about 2013."

It was pathetic, really. Steve had seen Tony kill a cockroach in his lab with a well-placed repulsor blast, but with a gun, Tony was pretty much the worst shot in the world. And Tony seemed to realize it, if the jokes were any indication. His jokes always got worse when he was nervous.

Thank goodness they were coming to get him.

Steve peered over the crate he and Fury had stationed themselves behind. "Tony," he hissed.

Tony started, half-rising before he could stop himself. He dropped back down to a crouch and edged his way over to the other crate, his friend following closely behind.

"Steve! What are you doing here?" Tony looked equal parts confused and delighted. "This thing with Killian...it's not a chitauri plot, is it?"

"Chitauri? Tony, what the hell is going on? Who are these people?"

Tony clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "Hey, Rhodey, hey, could you just give us a sec here?"

"Tony, we don't have time for this. We are in the _middle_ of-"

"Suits?" Steve suggested.

"Ugh, fine. Go ahead and ruin the surprise. Yes, Rhodey, I'm calling in some backup. Jarvis?"

"On their way, sir."

Rhodey relaxed just a fraction. "You've got a minute, Tony. And that's it." He edged forward to the next container and sat back against it, gun drawn.

Steve smiled. "No chitauri, this time. We're here to take you in."

Tony's shoulders slumped. "Really? Damn."

Steve's smile froze. This hadn't been the reaction he had expected. Maybe he had miscalculated, finding the one moment between where the protection order ended and Tony had yet to give up on life. "It's okay," Steve said hastily. "I won't make you-I mean, we can come back later."

Tony sighed and squared his shoulders. "It's not you, Cap. I'm glad you're here. Just wish it was under different circumstances, really. Wish you didn't have to see me fuck this up."

"I know how this all goes down," Steve said. "You're not going to fuck it up."

Tony exhaled noisily. "So I do manage to save Pepper first? Thank god. Whatever happens after that, I don't care. Just...it's not going to hurt much, right? Knowing my luck, I'll end up languishing in the hospital for a few weeks. I hate hospitals. But you knew that, right? I had to sit with Dad for over a month. And Mom, fuck, at least she didn't suffer that long. Just-"

Steve gripped Tony's shoulder and gave him a hard shake. "Tony. You're not dying. We're here to prevent that."

"But you take dead people," Tony said. "Otherwise that would disrupt the universe. Or something like that. And I wouldn't mind dying, if it meant spending the afterlife with you, but-"

"I'm not dead, you idiot. But I would have died, if SHIELD hadn't picked me up right before the plane sank below the ice." Fury had shown up only minutes after Steve had crashed into the Arctic. Fury had given him a choice: leave behind everything he knew and work for SHIELD, or stay locked in the ice indefinitely. It had been an easy choice for Steve, as it was for most people who were minutes away from death. But Tony still had twelve years left. Maybe some of them would be good ones and he wouldn't want to leave his life just yet.

But Tony brightened. "Saving me before I get myself killed. I'm all for that."

Fury straightened up, still barely within the bounds of their cover."Mr. Stark." he said. "We're running out of time. So I'll make the introductions brief."

"It's okay, Patchy. I remember you. It's only been two years." Tony winked. "And I remember something about me being a bad fit for your organization."

"That was forty years ago," Fury said. "You've changed since then. Or so I hear." He cast Steve a sidelong glance.

"Absolutely," Tony said. "Steve's been a good influence on me. And in me."

Fury crossed his arms over his chest, clearly unimpressed.

They were saved from things becoming awkward as the night sky above the oil tanker was suddenly filled with a legion of Iron Man suits. An awed gasp of "Jesus, Tony," came from Rhodey's position.

Tony rose to his feet, hands spread out like a maestro."Showtime, gentlemen. Jarvis, you know what to do."

The suits swooped into action, firing at all the Extremis heat signatures. Tony scrambled over a railing and began directing the suits, because Tony was never going to take a backseat when he could be putting himself in danger.

Steve knew that Tony came out of the battle alive and relatively unscathed, but it rankled having to sit back and watch as his lover struggled. As he desperately reached for Pepper, only to have her slip between his fingers. As he threw himself blindly at Killian, all the rage and despair making his blows sloppy.

Steve balled his hands into fists, fighting down the urge to jump into the battle and protect Tony. "This is harder than I thought," Steve said. "I keep wanting to fight his battles for him."

"Whatever you're going to do, do it fast and don't tell me about it. I don't want to see a damn thing."

Fury was looking pointedly in the opposite direction. Steve grinned and lifted his arm, dropping Killian with a well-placed shot.

Tony swung down from the gangplank, the grief etched on his face. "Pepper. I couldn't-I tried, but oh god, I couldn't save her."

"Miss Potts will be just fine," Fury said.

Tony reeled back."But-but how? I saw her fall. Almost two hundred feet."

"So, you think I'm dead just because I fell two hundred feet?"

"Pepper, you're alive!" Tony said joyously. He swept her up in a tight embrace.

Pepper struggled. "No, don't touch me. I'll burn you."

"I'm fine, see? No burns." But Tony held Pepper out at arm's length. "I can fix this," he said. "I'll make you good as new."

Steve cleared his throat. Not because he was jealous of the affectionate way Tony was looking at Pepper (no, Steve was absolutely not jealous at all. Not one bit.), but because they really needed to head back to SHIELD headquarters.

Pepper jerked, seeming to notice their presence for the first time. She took a defensive stance in front of Tony. "Who are you anyway?" she demanded. "More of Killian's goons?"

"Stand down, Pepper. They're friends. This is Steve. Remember Steve? I used to talk about him all the time and you kept telling me I was completely crazy."

"Right, Steve the time traveler." She gave Steve a quick once-over, her mouth set in a tight, disapproving line. "He's pretty young, isn't he?"

"He's older than he looks." Tony smiled fondly at Steve. "He's been there for me since I was a teenager."

Pepper's eyes narrowed. "Then why have I never had a chance to meet him?"

"Never had the opportunity, ma'am," Steve said, trying for the charm that had worked so well on Peggy.

Pepper wasn't buying it, of course. She continued to glare at him as if she could put bullet holes through his forehead with her thoughts alone. Probably not a completely ridiculous thought, given the way Extremis pulsed beneath her skin.

"Cut the crap, you two," Fury said. "We have a job to do." He reached into his back pocket unfolded a newspaper. "This is our chance."

Tony glanced at the headline. "_Tony Stark Presumed Dead_. Fuck."

Fury refolded the paper. "We're going to make sure it stays that way."

"But what about-"

"Miss Potts and Mr. Rhodes will take credit for everything."

Tony frowned "So, what do I do now?"

Steve glanced at his notes. "You blow up all of your suits."

"I'd prefer you didn't follow through with that part," Fury said. "SHIELD could have use for them."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Bad things happen when people borrow my suits."

Fury put his hands behind his back and gazed upward, his eyes following the Iron Man suits still flying through the fiery night sky. "It's an impressive A.I.," he said casually. "It would be nice to have something like that in place if headquarters was ever attacked."

Tony's face relaxed. "Sure," he said. "I could set that up." His voice dropped down to a level Steve could barely hear. "Hafta put a verbal lock on everything first."

Steve cleared his throat. "You won't be able to come back here again," he said. "Anyone you need to see one last time?"

"What?" Pepper demanded. "Tony, what's going on?"

Tony shook his head. "Pepper and Rhodey are all I have left." His mouth twisted. "And maybe Happy."

"Don't worry. He survives."

Tony exhaled slowly. "That's good. Pepper can fill him in later."

"Tony," Pepper said in a strained voice. "Where are you going? Are you really running off with these people to god knows where? You barely know them."

Tony sighed. "I told you. I've known Steve for all my life, practically. I trust him."

"But you don't even know what you're getting yourself into. All this talk about never being able to come back." She threw her hands up in the air. "Think, Tony, think! You have responsibilities, obligations. You can't just-"

"Already taken care of," Steve said. He patted his notebook. "These are all of the designs Tony comes up with in the next few years. With detailed instructions for Research and Development."

Pepper fixed him with another venomous glare. Steve took a small step backwards.

There was a thunk as Rhodey landed beside them in the Iron Patriot armor. "The President is secured," Rhodey said. "Villains defeated, Pepper rescued. Looks like we can all go home happy."

"Yeah," Tony said. "About that."

"He's leaving us to go play time-traveler," Pepper said, her voice rising almost hysterically. "Tell him, Rhodey. Tell him he can't do this."

Rhodey put a hand on Pepper's shoulder and squeezed. "Just let him go. You know how he is. Has to screw things up a few times before he learns anything."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Tony said with a dramatic eye roll.

Pepper sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm going to miss you, Tony," she said. "I really am. What will we do without you?"

Steve couldn't muster up very much sympathy for her. She had gotten so much time with Tony already and she hadn't really appreciated what she had. He had loved her so much that he was willing to change who he was to keep her and she had left him. Or, would have left him. Good thing they were taking him before that happened.

Tony put his hand over Steve's arm as he turned the dial on his watch. "Take me home, soldier," he said in a low voice, tight with anticipation.

Steve couldn't hit the button fast enough

They landed in the middle of the lower deck.

Tony swayed unsteadily and leaned into Steve. "Whoa," he said. "That packed a punch."

Steve smiled. "The first time's always the hardest." When Steve had first landed in SHIELD, he was so dizzy that he could barely stand. And he knew several agents that had vomited or passed out. Mortal men just weren't meant to travel between worlds. But Tony seemed to be coping pretty well. His past as Iron Man was probably helping.

"How long am I going to feel this shitty?" Tony asked.

Steve started to tell Tony about the effects of what Bruce had dubbed "temporal imbalance". He was interrupted by the heavy thud of the Iron Man suits touching down and then the screech of metal as they all began to topple over. The medical staff and the first row of observing agents scrambled back from the platform. Steve pressed Tony back against a support beam and braced himself in front of him.

It was a long five minutes before the sickening scrape of metal against metal ended. The medical staff peered cautiously over the consoles they had hidden behind and the SHIELD agents picked their way through the scattered pieces of Tony's suits to return to their posts.

Tony winced as he surveyed the damage. "I can fix that. Probably. If I can get Jarvis back."

Steve squeezed Tony's shoulder comfortingly. It was a shame that the journey had taken its toll on Jarvis as well. And if Tony couldn't repair it, he would be devastated. Tony could always build another A.I., but Steve knew it wouldn't be the same.

Tony took a shaky step forward."I need a computer. I don't care if it's a crappy 1980s model. Anything will do."

Steve steered him towards the bank of computers on the far wall and several agents obligingly vacated their workspaces.

Tony sank down into one of the chairs and began furiously typing on the two nearest keyboards.

Steve rested his arms and the back of Tony's chair and leaned forward, peering at the wall of code appearing on both screens."What are you even doing?"

Tony flashed him a strained smile. "Hacking into your servers." He hit the spacebar, shift, and enter key on both keyboards simultaneously.

Steve's hands tightened on the back of the chair and he risked a sidelong glance at Fury, who had come up to stand beside him."You know what you're doing, right?" Fury was going to kill Tony if he crashed their servers. SHIELD wouldn't be able to operate without them.

"Oh, of course. My A.I. gets disabled by a fucking time vortex every day. Thank god I always keep a backup of Jarvis' programming with me at all times." Tony bent down in front of the CPU tower and inserted a flash drive. The monitor turned blue for thirty seconds and then went to the SHIELD screensaver.

Tony took a deep breath. "Okay, I've done all I can. Jarvis? Jarvis, you there, buddy?"

"Online and ready, sir."

Tony heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank god. Clean up this mess, will you? I'm sure the agents don't want a big pile of scrap metal sitting around."

Light flickered behind the eyes of the Iron Man suits and the pile began to move. Legs and arms shot into the air, swirling around torsos that were struggling upright. At last, the army of Iron Men suits stood upright again. The damage was only minimal, Steve was relieved to note. Tony had built his armor to be tough.

"Where shall I put them, sir?"

"Uhh." Tony spun around in his chair. "You guys got a storage room somewhere?"

"I've got a place in mind," Fury said.

"Cool. Jarvis, follow the Director out. But don't let him talk you into any demonstrations. I don't care if he is technically my boss now. I'm still your boss and we're not doing anything until I assess the damage."

"Of course, sir." In unison, the Iron Man suits inclined their heads and gestured to the door. "After you, Director Fury," they said as one.

Fury gave Tony a long look, but he kept whatever he was thinking to himself. He just shook his head and walked slowly out the door, the suits trooping after him.

Tony snickered and bent back over the computer. "Jarvis, integrate yourself into SHIELD's database."

"There appears to be a rudimentary A.I. already in place," Jarvis said. "Shall I override it?"

Tony arched an eyebrow. "Steve?

Steve scratched the back of his head sheepishly. He had forgotten about Sybil. Probably because Sybil didn't talk like Jarvis did. Or maybe only talked to Jacob. "Sorry, yeah. Your grandson made it for us."

"Interesting," Tony said. "Hey, Jarvis, did you know I'm a father? No, of course you did. You know everything. I bet Pepper paid her off so it wouldn't go public."

"Indeed, sir."

"I'd have been a terrible father anyway," Tony said dismissively. "Probably for the best the kid grew up without learning all my bad habits. But hey, my grandson's built an A.I. too so I guess my genius is genetic."

"I must disagree, sir. Sybil's design is very rudimentary. You could have programmed something similar at nineteen."

Tony grinned. "Be nice, Jarvis. He's my grandson. Maybe he is nineteen."

"Forty-two, sir."

Tony grimaced. "Well, never mind. Just try to put up with Sybil for now. Until I can figure out how SHIELD's systems work."

"As you wish, sir." The monitor shut off.

Tony slumped down into the chair. "Well, that was fun. Any other delightful surprises I should watch out for?"

"Well, there's the medical exam."

Tony shot out of his seat. "Hell no. Absolutely not. I'm not doing this."

Steve clamped down on Tony's shoulder with one hand. "Yes, you are." He swiveled Tony around to face the Dr. Banner and the assembled medical staff. "Dr. Banner's just going to give you a shot to get rid of the effects of the jump."

The shots were supposed to be administered by the lower-ranking SHIELD medical staff. And Dr. Banner wasn't actually a medical doctor. But knowing Tony's hatred of hospitals, doctors, and everything medical, Steve had called Bruce to assist. Bruce radiated a level of calm that put even the most needle-phobic agents at ease.

And if that still wasn't enough to get Tony cooperating, the rest of the staff could hold him down.

But Tony seemed perfectly at ease with Bruce. "Dr. Banner," he said, extending a hand. "Big fan of your work."

"Oh, uh, thank you." Bruce smiled and adjusted his glasses. "But I'm mostly a physicist. I just dabble in chemistry."

"That's okay. I like all sorts of science. I especially like the way you become a giant, green ragemonster."

Bruce's smile faltered.

"Tony," Steve hissed. "Are you trying to piss him off on purpose?"

"It's alright," Bruce said with a heavy sigh. "It takes a lot more than that to bring out the Other Guy these days."

Tony brightened. "So, I guess the retreat to that malaria-riddled third-world country actually helped?"

"Sure," Bruce said. "It helped me catch malaria." He pushed up Tony's sleeve and plunged in the needle with perhaps a little bit more force than was necessary.

Tony winced. "That's going to leave a mark."

"Nope." Bruce tossed the used syringe into the trash. "This stuff is almost as good as the old supersoldier serum. It's synthesized from Asgardian blood."

"Whoa." Tony held up his hands and turned them over slowly, as if looking for a change. "I don't look any different," he said at last. "But damn, do I feel it."

"Immortality is a good feeling, isn't it?" Bruce slapped a bandage over Tony's bicep and smoothed his shirt down. "And yes, I know you feel you can take on the world with reckless abandon right now, but you can still be injured in combat. You'll just heal faster."

"And I'm not dizzy anymore," Tony said. "This is the best medicine ever."

Bruce rolled his eyes."Yes, that, too. Be grateful that you arrived after I did. The earliest SHIELD agents had to just put up with the effects of temporal instability. It's a wonder any of them survived more than a few years."

"And we get forever," Tony said brightly. "Lucky us. Lucky, lucky us."

"The euphoria will wear off in a few minutes," Bruce said. "Then he'll be back to being an ass."

"Thank you, Bruce," Steve said. The man deserved more appreciation for all the work he had done for them.

Bruce waved a hand dismissively. "Just have him sit down for a moment until the feeling passes."

"Hey," Tony called from the doorway. "Where does this hallway go?"

"Or not."

Steve caught up with Tony five hundred feet down the hallway, where the excitable genius had apparently collided with Clint.

"Sorry, Clint" Steve apologized, hauling the archer gently back to his feet. "Tony's new here. He hasn't-"

Clint's huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I know I keep pestering you to get laid. But did you have to bring a whore home with you?"

"Clint!" Steve hissed, feeling his face redden with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Tony, he's usually not-"

"Former whore," Tony said cheerfully. "I retired when I met Steve." He leaned his head against Steve's shoulder. "I mean, who could possibly compete with Captain America."

Clint's jaw dropped. "I had to sneak into Fury's files and you come straight out and fucking tell him?"

"I didn't," Steve protested. How had Tony figured it out anyway? He had never questioned when Tony began calling him Cap. It had just seemed so natural, as if Tony had always known. But Steve didn't remember ever telling him. He didn't like to brag about his past exploits.

"You said you served with Dad in the war," Tony said, sounding mildly guilty. "I just googled up Dad's old war buddies."

"Fuck," Clint said. "Foiled by ancient technology."

"What's the matter, Barton? Forgot how to work a computer after all these years? Oh wait, you never learned. I bet I could tell the good Captain so much shit about you," Tony said, warming to the subject. "You were a bigger whore than I ever was."

"I wasn't the one who slept with the entire cheer squad."

"Because they appreciated my genius. Unlike some people."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute," Steve said. "You actually know each other?"

Clint sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I knew him. Went to school together."

"Really?" Tony was a genius and Clint was an athlete. How could they possibly have gone to the same school?

"High school," Tony clarified. "Barton dropped out to become an Olympic archer."

"And he never let me hear the end of it," Clint growled.

Tony shrugged. "Maybe I was a little bit of a dick back then. But hell, I was seventeen. I didn't realize Clint was that good."

Clint had two archery medals, Steve recalled. One gold, one silver. It was why he had eventually been recruited. SHIELD was always looking for accuracy and precision.

Tony slapped Clint's shoulder. "So, how'd you end up here, buddy? Last I heard, you jumped off a bridge after whatshername dumped you for pulling silver."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Thank you for bringing up all those lovely memories."

"Seriously, though. I thought you were supposed to be dead."

"I am," Clint said. "Aren't you?"

And that was apparently Tony's cue to go off about how Steve and Fury had come to get him before he died. As if doing nothing of importance for the last twelve years of his life was somehow something to brag about.

Steve massaged his temples. Listening to Clint and Tony argue was giving him a headache. On paper, they should have been good friends, good teammates.

If only they didn't hate each other so much.

Steve opened his mouth to give them both a lecture on the value of working as a team when he heard the click of heels down the hallway.

Clint froze as Natasha strutted down the hallway, her slim figure encased in a tight black catsuit. Her long hair hid her face from his view, but he was pretty sure she was smirking at Clint's open-mouthed stare.

"Boys," Natasha said coolly. Yes, Steve could hear the smirk in her voice.

Tony stared at her for a good thirty seconds and then shuddered. A perfectly understandable reaction. Natasha tended to scare most men. She was an attractive woman (even Steve would admit that) but she also had an air of danger around her. Probably had something to do with her knife collection.

But Natasha turned and Steve drew in a sharp breath. She had make-up over exactly half of her face. One eye with slate-gray eyeshadow and full lashes, one rosy cheek, one half of a scarlet smile.

Yikes.

This was definitely a new look for her. Well, for anybody probably.

Clint gaped. "What the hell?"

"You wanted me to wear less makeup," Natasha reminded him.

Clint groaned.

"Be careful what you wish for," she said with a furtive smile. "Same goes for you, Tony."

Tony drew in a sharp breath. "Goddamn. I know you. You used to work for me."

"What?" Clint demanded. "You worked for him?"

Natasha shrugged. "Fury's orders. Had to spend enough time with him for an assessment."

"You told Fury no, right? Then why is he here?"

"I told Fury that he's reckless, impulsive, and a classic narcissist. No, don't argue,Tony. You know it's true." Her eyes flicked over him appraisingly. "But I also said you could learn to behave, if given the right motivation." Her gaze slid to Steve, a predatory smile stretching across her face. "I told him maybe. Now, if you'll all stop gawking, I have work to do."

Tony whistled as Natasha continued briskly down the hall, the click of her stilettos fading off into the distance.

"I feel like I've missed something," Clint muttered.

"Me too," Steve said. Although he hadn't missed the way Natasha had looked at him. She knew about him and Tony. Probably had known all along. She was way more observant than Clint and a lot sneakier. Hell, half of the shift switches had probably been her idea.

Oh. That was a scary thought.

"I knew she was always going to be secretive and I mean, I never expected her to tell me everything," Clint continued. "But still, working with my high school nemesis? Pretty big news. And she didn't tell me. Fucking super secret spy. Remind me why I'm still with her."

"Because she's hot?" Tony offered.

Clint's eyes narrowed. "Don't-"

Tony stepped closer to Steve, his arm curling around his bicep. "Mine."

Tony insisted that Steve take him to see all the places he frequented. Steve was a little embarrassed to realize that other than the flight deck and the occasional visit to Fury's office, he hadn't left his quarters except to hit the gym and pick up food from the cafeteria. SHIELD headquarters was a large, sprawling complex of laboratories, weapons training courses, and according to Clint, a golf course, a virtual reality simulator, a basketball court, two Olympic-sized swimming pools, a hot tub, and a dance club. Not that Steve had ever seen any of them. When Bucky had been alive, they had spent most of their days together, and after Bucky passed, it had been so comfortable sticking to the same routine.

It was a shame, though. Steve wished he could give Tony a tour of all the fun things there were to do in SHIELD. But really, all he could show him was the gym. It had state of the art equipment, but Tony didn't look the least bit impressed. But he did perk up as Agent Hill walked in, heading for the exercise bikes.

"Maria!" Tony said. "Long time, no see. Still thinking of getting that tattoo?"

Agent Hill slapped him across the face. She fixed Steve with a disapproving look and marched right back out of the gym.

"What was that all about?" Steve asked.

Tony grimaced and gingerly prodded his jaw. "College roommate."

"You'll heal. Not as quickly as the Captain, but faster than you're used to." Coulson stood in the doorway, a file tucked under one arm.

Of course Coulson would find him here. He knew all of Steve's habits. It was disconcerting how Coulson seemed to follow him around like a hero-worshipping puppy. And now he was looking at Tony with almost the same level of respect.

"Mr. Stark," he said, extending his hand. "We meet again."

"Agent Boyscout," Tony said delightedly. "So nice to see you weren't actually killed."

"Likewise," Coulson said. "You're a very lucky man."

"Aren't we all?" Tony said cheerfully.

Coulson smiled. "Very lucky," he said, his eyes flicking to Steve. "Glad to have you back with us, Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark will need to report to Central Control to get inputted in the system. But, no rush. He's entitled to the grand tour."

"He'll be in the system within the hour," Steve promised.

He felt vaguely unbalanced. Coulson was all business with new agents. Everyone was allowed to go exploring after they were in the system. It kept Jacob from panicking, it kept Fury from breathing down their necks, and it kept Coulson content that everything was running neatly and efficiently.

Something weird was going on.

_Fanboy, _Tony mouthed.

Steve pretended his face had not suddenly become bright red.

Steve was a wreck by the time they made it to Control Room A. Tony had met two other agents in the halls, both biochemists he knew in college.

It was beginning to seem like Tony knew, or at least knew of, every SHIELD agent on board the helicarrier. He should have been happy for Tony. It meant that he'd integrate into his new life on SHIELD that much faster. When Steve had arrived, all he'd had was Bucky and Bucky hadn't been the greatest with technology either. So, he should have been happy for Tony, but the more old acquaintances Tony met, the more unsettled Steve felt. He wasn't jealous, he told himself. There was something else going on, some plot he needed to uncover. In the meantime, it would probably be safer to keep Tony away from the people who knew and hated him.

And Steve was fairly confident that Tony wouldn't have met the two resident Asgardians.

"Asgardians," Tony repeated. "I keep hearing about them. Asgardian blood, Asgardian strength. Are they some kind of monsters like the chitauri?"

"Nothing like the chitauri," Steve assured him, shoving open the door to the control room.

Thor's brow was furrowed in concentration, carefully typing away on his laptop with his massive fingers. But he looked up as they entered, his face split into a broad smile. "Ah, Steven has returned from his recruitment mission. That is good news, is it not, brother?"

"Sure. Fantastic," Loki muttered. He was sprawled across his desk, his much smaller laptop balanced on his flat stomach. "No," he said to the computer screen. "That would be a waste of my skills. And you know how I feel about my skills being wasted."

A thin wail issued from the speakers.

"Sorry," Thor said apologetically. "Loki and Jacob have been in talks for a new design. And as always, my brother insists on being difficult."

"No problem," Steve said. "Just giving Tony the grand tour. You can put him into the system when you're not busy." He ushered Tony further into the room.

"Ooh, fancy," Tony said, turning in the doorway to get a good look at the wall-length display screens. "You've got the good stuff. You guys must be at the top of the food chain around here."

Loki grinned and shoved the laptop aside. "I like this one," he said. "Not as clueless as the rest."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Thor, Loki. I'd like you to meet Tony Stark, grandfather of our Jacob."

"Ah," Thor said. "A relative of Jacob is welcome indeed." He thumped Tony's shoulder.

Tony just kept his balance. "Yeah, hi," he said. "Nice to meet you, big guy." He nodded towards Loki. "And you, too. You the Asgardians everyone keeps talking about? Whatever that's supposed to mean."

Loki's smile was all teeth as he slid from his desk. "Listen closely, mortal. I don't expect you to fully understand the wonders of Asgardian society, but it is good to know your place."

Steve tuned him out after that. Loki's I'm-Practically-A-God-And-You-Are-But-Mere-Mortals speech got more and more dramatic with each new recruit. But he had heard it all seventeen times and he was no longer impressed.

Tony blinked, looking a little stunned. "Wow, okay," he said.

Thor chuckled. "My brother jests with you. We are not as fearsome a people as he would like you to believe."

"We're still far more powerful than these pathetic mortals," Loki insisted. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "Without our assistance, their cause would be hopeless. And maybe that's how it should be. If they can't help themselves, maybe they deserve to be obliterated."

"We are giving them aid because your actions put them in peril in the first place," Thor said with a long-suffering sigh. This was an argument that they had both been through over and over again and neither side was ever going to budge.

"It wasn't exactly my fault," Loki said. "How was I to know what the chitauri would do with my magic?"

"You should know better than to give closely-guarded secrets to an enemy of Asgard."

Loki's eyes narrowed "So, my favorite hiding spot is a state secret now. Of course. I create nullspace and Odin claims it as property of Asgard. It was my creation, mine to do with as I pleased. If I wanted to share it with the chitauri instead of your precious warrior friends, it was my business and my business alone."

"It is everyone's business when the chitauri used it as a platform of attack," Thor countered doggedly.

"So let me get this straight," Tony said. "Loki makes this place outside of the timestream, because, sure, why not, it'll be fun. And he invites the chitauri to come visit with him like some kind of cosmic sleepover."

"That is not how it happened," Loki hissed. "There was only to be one regiment of the chitauri army. Enough soldiers to disrupt my brother's coronation without causing real damage. They're enemies of Asgard, yes? They should desire nothing more than sowing chaos in Asgard. But no, they wanted to attack your precious Midgard."

"It was a pity you overestimated their intentions. And the strength of their forces. But you showed remarkable intelligence in returning to Asgard for Father's aid."

Tony burst into laughter. "Oh god. You were kicked out of your own creation. Wow."

Loki leveled Tony with a venomous glare and Tony's mouth snapped shut. "For the record," Loki said. "It was far more than one regiment. I dare you to test your might against an army numbering over a million strong."

"Not the greatest odds," Tony admitted.

"The odds are great indeed," Thor said. "It is lucky for all that the chitauri choose to be cowardly in their attacks. They would prefer picking away at the world's leaders one by one to further weaken your people before they launch their invasion. And my brother was convinced-"

"Coerced."

"-to lend his magic to SHIELD's cause, to combat the chitauri's attempts."

"And I'll probably regret that when eons from now, we'll still be fighting chitauri," Loki said gloomily.

Thor clapped his hand on Loki's shoulder. "It is not so bad, brother. I will be here with you the entire time. So the coronation will be delayed, as you wished."

"I don't want your pity," Loki snapped.

Steve sighed. He had seen the brothers argue so often that he knew what was coming next. When Loki felt his pride threatened, the argument inevitably turned physical. And the control center was no place for two Asgardians to get into a brawl.

"Can one of you add Tony into the system?" Steve asked.

"It's Thor's turn to make the report," Loki said immediately. His eyes flashed, daring Thor to protest.

Thor just shrugged his massive shoulders and wandered out of the room to the secondary control room down the hall.

"So, you two, huh?" Tony asked in the resulting silence.

"Us two what?" Loki asked warily.

Tony waved a hand around the room. "You're responsible for all this stuff. The warning systems, the watches, everything."

"No," Loki said. "That is mine alone. Thor plays no part in most of this."

With the snap of his fingers, he conjured up a watch. "This will be yours," he told Tony serenely. "Thor will note it in the report. Asgardian technology. Shatterproof, waterproof, heat resistance. And while you remain in headquarters, it functions on SHIELD time. That much is Thor's doing. But this," he tapped the watch face and it began to glow, "is my doing. Without my magic, it's just a pretty bauble."

Tony looped the watch around his wrist and turned it side to side, inspecting it carefully. "Yep. I was pretty sure you were the guy in charge. The cape says it all. It's a good look for you."

For once, Loki was rendered speechless.

Tony made a slow circuit of the room as if he owned the place, running a hand casually over all the equipment. "This is all very nice," Tony said approvingly. "Like high-tech art. But then, you know all about art. You're a living piece of art. Everyone else is running around in t-shirts and you've got that wonderful green cape. I could almost take you out in public."

Loki's brow furrowed and he leaned in closer to Steve. "I did give my usual speech, didn't I?"

Steve nodded.

"Was he listening?"

"I'm sure he was." At least, Tony had looked like he had been listening. "Don't take it personally, Loki. Tony flirts with everyone. His bosses, his employees, his friends. Everybody."

"Don't give away all my secrets, darling," Tony called over his shoulder. He ran a hand over Loki's computer. "Sleek, compact, and such a sexy shade of silver. Suits you perfectly."

Loki cocked his head to one side, regarding Tony with a more calculating expression."Even Fury?"

Steve thought back to Fury's visceral hatred when he had come across Tony's picture in The Book. "It's a distinct possibility," he said.

Loki grinned. "Delightful."

Tony peered into one of Loki's desk drawers. "Do you have porn in this thing? No, why am I even asking. You're working with Tall, Blonde, and Buff. Thor, right? Yeah, he's pretty hot. Not as hot as Steve, but still."

A shadow passed over Loki's face. He raised a hand and Tony went flying into the far wall.

"Tony!" Steve rushed across the room to Tony's side.

At least, he tried to. Loki snapped a finger and he was unable to move. Could only watch helplessly as Loki advanced towards Tony like a large cat about to devour prey.

"Stark," Loki purred. "I do like you. I like you far more than your pathetic offspring. If I had to choose only one of you to live, the choice would be obvious. But don't mistake my regard for weakness. I will not hesitate to kill you as well if you displease me. Is that understood?"

Tony nodded quickly.

"Good." Loki dropped his hand and Tony slumped to the floor. "I suggest you remain faithful to Captain Rogers. Not because I wish to protect him from heartache, but because if I catch you making eyes at my brother, I will disembowel you."

Tony swallowed. "Got it. No flirting with Thor. I'll remember."

"See that you do," Loki said frostily.

And now Steve rushed to Tony's side. Tony was pale and seemed more than a little shaken by the experience, but he didn't seem hurt, which meant Tony was very lucky. When Loki was angry, people tended to lose limbs. There was even talk that Fury had lost his eye after breaking Loki's favorite pen.

Loki settled back at his desk, smiling like a shark. "Surprisingly resilient, your boyfriend. Now that I've fixed that unfortunate personality trait of his, he should be almost perfect."

Steve glared at him. "He just got here and you've already tried to kill him."

Loki's eyes glittered. "If I tried, I would have succeeded, Captain. But don't worry too much. I'm sure dear Tony and I will become the best of friends."

Steve highly doubted that Tony would want to be friends with Loki. He was probably going to have nightmares about him. But he plastered on a weak smile and helped Tony out of the room.

"This place is really utilitarian. _Really_ utilitarian. I'm usually all for this futuristic look, but really, there's no life to this place at all. Don't you guys have paint or some silly little flowers to put up?"

Everyone had their own way of coping with the aftermath of an encounter with Loki. Tony apparently took to ranting about all the things he thought were wrong with SHIELD headquarters. Probably because he knew he couldn't fix Loki, but he might be able to fix the architecture.

Steve sighed. "This is headquarters, not your mansion." Not that he expected Tony to understand. Tony was used to extravagance. He had never been to war, never had to deal with rationing, or buying things that were strictly functional.

"Right," Tony said. "You guys probably don't spend a lot of time here. Too busy out fighting the chitauri. By the way, when do I get to start kicking ass? I'm sure a lot of people will be thrilled to have Iron Man come to their rescue."

Steve shoved Tony against the wall. "What is your problem?" he hissed. "Is this all some silly game to you?"

Tony snorted. "Come on, Cap. I thought you knew me better than that."

"I thought so, too. But you're not taking anything seriously." His hands tightened on Tony's shoulders. "Damn it, Tony. I don't see how I can ever let you go into the field. You're just going to get yourself killed."

"Oh, come on. I'm not a mortal anymore, remember? I'm just like you now."

"It doesn't mean you can't be killed in battle. Believe me, Tony. I saw my best friend die right in front of my eyes."

Tony's expression softened. "Oh, Steve. I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

Steve shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "He was Negated. They warn us over and over and over again that if you fuck up a mission, you step back and let someone else handle it."

From his first failures, Steve had gotten used to sitting down with Clint or Natasha and talking through what he had done. Over time, a botched mission felt less like a failure, and more like a learning experience. By figuring out what he had done wrong this time, he would know what to do right the next time. And sometimes, what he had needed to learn was that he wasn't right for a certain mission. Maybe it called for Clint's expert sniping instead of brute force. Or maybe he had stumbled into a mission with more chitauri than one man could handle. They weren't truly failures as long as he brought back intel for the next agents.

But Bucky had never learned that lesson. His first failed mission consumed him. He refused to take part in mission debriefing and became sullen, secretive. Somehow he had gotten the timecode for 1963. And because Steve couldn't talk him out of going back, Steve had gone with him.

Steve set his jaw. "Bucky was stubborn. Believed he could get in and get out without his other self seeing a damn thing. But he was wrong."

The memory was etched into Steve's mind: He and Bucky had been fighting chitauri on one side of the street when a laser beam passed within inches of Bucky. Steve, locked in combat with three chitauri, could only scream Bucky's name until he was hoarse. Could only watch as Bucky looked across the street in the direction of the laser blast, making eye contact with his previous self. They stared at each other in horror for one long moment and then Bucky was gone.

A botched mission could be fixed. But Negation was permanent.

Tony's hands came up to cup Steve's face. "Steve," he said gently. "I'm not Bucky."

"But I know you," Steve said. "You're reckless and stubborn. You're going to do something stupid and then I'm going to lose you, too."

"No," Tony said, his fingers gently caressing Steve's cheek. "I'm going to make sure that never happens. I'm sure I can put together a program that keeps track of all the missions. And if I study this watch long enough, I can fix it so it locks me out from ever going back to the same day. Trust me, Steve. I'm not leaving you."

The determination in Tony's eyes was pretty convincing. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe he could actually talk Tony into backing down and letting Natasha or Clint clean up after him.

"You better not," Steve said sternly. "I can lock you in your room for the next century if you're going to be-"

"Problems, gentlemen?"

Steve flinched. "No, Director." He released Tony's shoulder and took a deep breath. "I was just telling Tony-"

"Steve was telling me how shitty your equipment is. I'm shocked you guys are making any progress in this war at all."

"Then what do you propose, Mr. Stark?"

Wow, Fury sounded weary. But it was probably because he was dealing with Tony. Tony just had a knack for irritating and exhausting people.

"Not to tell you how to do your job, but yeah, let me tell you how to do your job. If you can see that the chitauri are attacking at a certain time, you should be able to see how many chitauri are attacking. Steve had to fight an army and none of you assclowns were there to give him backup."

"Tony," Steve hissed. "Can you try not to be an ass for once?"

Fury sighed heavily. "As much as it pains me to say it, he's right. We just don't have the technology."

"That's okay," Tony said cheerfully. "I can invent the technology."

"You'll have to work with Loki on that," Fury said. Maybe it was Steve's imagination, but the Director seemed a little too pleased about that.

Tony swallowed and then nodded slowly. "Yeah, I can-I can do that," he said. "For the good of all mankind and everything."

Steve didn't envy Tony's position. Jacob Stark had many horror stories of Loki wreaking havoc with lab equipment. Come to think of it, working with Loki was probably why Jacob was such a mess.

"Let's get you set up in the lab," Fury said.

They rode the elevator down to the basement level, where all the workshop spaces were set up. Fury had insisted that all lab work was to be done downstairs after one of Bruce's chemical reactions had exploded, taking out a whole row of office space. Now, anyone who was working with chemicals or sensitive electrical equipment had their own workshop with shatterproof glass so they would be no danger to anyone else. Even Loki had a workspace downstairs in case he had the urge to play with explosives.

When the elevator doors slid open, Tony gravitated immediately to Jacob Stark's robot prototype, dubbed the Metal Monstrosity by exasperated SHIELD agents, who were sick of seeing it sitting in the foyer like some kind of hideous statue. It was supposed to move soundlessly and had a cloaking mechanism that would make it invisible. A perfect alternative to putting SHIELD agents in danger, Jacob had promised them. Too bad he couldn't even get the thing to walk upstairs.

Tony tipped his head back and stared upwards."What the hell is this?"

"I was hoping you could tell us, Mr. Stark. It's your design." Fury had Jacob's notebook in his hand and he held it out to Tony.

"But I never-oh." Tony took the notebook and squinted at it.

"Page nine."

Tony flipped through the pages. He squinted at the notebook, then back at the machinery. "My god, it is. But it shouldn't look like this. There shouldn't be any visible wires." Tony traced a hand over the mass of wires sticking out of the robot's chest. "Wait, this panel is backwards. And so is this one." Tony walked around the entire thing, pointing out flaws from every angle.

"My grandson is a fucking idiot," Tony declared when he was done. "This was supposed to be a suit, not a robot."

"I take it you know how to fix it up the way it's supposed to look."

"Hell yes, I do." Tony rapped the metal frame with his knuckles. "Easy fixes. As long as I can get the parts." He frowned. "And as long as SHIELD has the budget. I'm sure those snazzy watches eat up a ton of cash."

The faintest of smiles played across Fury's face. "Not that you have a concept of what a budget is anyway, but-"

Tony held up a hand. "No, no. Break it to me gently. I've got at least five grand, right? I can work with that. It'll take a hell of a lot of time, but I can-"

"We don't have a budget, Mr. Stark."

"No budget?" Tony's eyes became blank, shuttered. "Well, damn. Normally, I'd offer to chip in my own funds, but-"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Stop talking and listen for once. By no budget, he means we're not accountable to anybody."

Tony's eyes flickered back to life. "So, essentially, an unlimited budget."

Steve nodded.

Tony whooped with delight. "I've always dreamed of this day. No stockholders, no board of directors, no charity galas. This is almost too good to be true."

"It's nice, isn't it? And once you're done rebuilding whatever the hell that's supposed to be, we have a list of projects your grandson needs assistance with."

"Sure, sure," Tony said in the tone that said he wasn't really listening. His eyes darted back to the Metal Monstrosity and Steve was sure Tony was already working on the remodel in his head.

"Tony," Steve said."Look at the list."

Tony looked at him guiltily. "Sure," he said. "I'll look it over."

Steve twisted the dial on his watch and the hologram display popped up. Tony immediately tapped the holographic screen with a finger and started scrolling through the list as if this was just another day for him. In a sense, it probably was. Steve had watched Tony work similar projections back in his own time. Tony was the pinnacle of Stark innovation and only minimal improvements were ever made to any of Tony's designs.

"Huh," Tony said, finally. "So this is all the equipment SHIELD needs?"

"For now."

Tony settled his hand on Steve's wrist, thumb gently stroking along the band of his watch. "It's a pretty big list. Probably going to take me several months."

Fury and Steve exchanged a glance. It had taken Jacob an entire year just to build the Metal Monstrosity and it wasn't even functional yet.

"I'll give you two months," Fury said. "You're going to need to get in several hours of training a week. SHIELD agents need to be at the peak of physical performance."

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm an engineer. I don't need to have a six-pack to whip up an overhaul of your stupid system."

"Maybe not," Fury said. "But if you don't get in some combat training, you're only going to slow Steve down."

Tony's eyes widened. "You're sending me on a mission? A mission with Steve?"

Steve felt his stomach drop. "Sir, that's not necessary," he began. "Tony is-"

"I don't want to hear it, Rogers. Your boy's a loose cannon and you know that. I'm not sending him solo until I know he's capable of following orders."

"I'll follow Steve's orders," Tony said immediately. "Command me, Captain, and I will march into battle at your side."

"Shouldn't Tony concentrate on redoing the system?" Steve asked. "I mean, Tony can always do field work when it's up and running, right?"

Fury gave him a knowing look and Steve realized that he wasn't fooling anybody. Fury knew how much he hated being paired with another agent. It was a necessity of the job. There were missions where one agent wasn't enough. But they had always filled Steve with dread. He was usually too worried about the other agent's safety to be of much use. Fury had tried pairing him up with multiple agents to the same result. And of course if Tony was in the field with him, his anxiety was going to be even higher. He had failed to keep Bucky safe and he was terrified that he would fail to protect Tony, too.

"It's okay, Steve," Tony said. "I promise I'll only tag along when you need back-up. Otherwise, I'll be right here, waiting for you to get back."

And worrying about him, if Tony's expression was anything to go by.

It was a foreign concept. No one worried about him. Everyone at SHIELD knew he could take care of himself. No one rushed up to greet him when he returned from a mission, sick with relief that he had made it back safely. Steve's survival had always been taken for granted. Even by Bucky.

But not Tony. Tony was used to going years without seeing him. There was always surprised joy in Tony's eyes when he showed up and a flicker of fear when he had to leave. Tony probably spent years worrying that he was never coming back.

And he wasn't about to do that to Tony again.

"I haven't actually had a partner since Bucky," he began carefully. "So I'm not used to fighting with anyone else."

"Bullshit," Tony said. "We were a perfect team that one time."

Steve's eyes widened. Tony was right. They had worked together so perfectly in Tony's boardroom. He had gone in for close-range combat while Tony stayed at a distance, offering ranged support and a wider view of the conflict. If Tony could really transform the Mechanical Monstrosity into fully-functional stealth armor...well, it just might work.

Tony squeezed his shoulder. "Relax, Cap. Even time-traveling badass supersoldiers need saving sometimes. And when you do, I'll be there."


End file.
